Everything Changes
by inadaze22
Summary: “Thank you for cheating on me, Ron. It’s the best thing you could’ve done. Thank you for stopping me from making the worst mistake of my life.” My first Dramione story. Rated M for strong language and sexual content.
1. Are You Who You Want To Be?

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything. I'm okay with this._

Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction, ever. You have been warned.

It's just a Draco/Hermione story I've been working on for the last month or so. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm not an English major, so please don't blast me away because of poor grammar. It's kind of smutty and semi-graphic as the story progresses, but I tried to keep it tasteful. I'm just trying to get better as a writer and I happen to love writing about Harry Potter, win-win. Hope you enjoy it! Read and review, please. With that said, I want to thank my awesome and hilarious beta kate04 for all her hard work. :)

* * *

**Chapter One**

_(Today: April 20th)_

Is it just me, or does it feel like life speeds by too fast?

I swear it was yesterday when I stepped off the Hogwarts Express with optimistic eyes, an omnipresent book, and bushy brown hair that gave me…we'll say character. Now, I'm twenty-five and I've accomplished more in my young years than witches and wizards achieve in their entire lives.

With my partially desensitized eyes, I pack my trusty books in my bag, sweep my magically straightened hair from my face, and head out my office door for the day, stopping to check my appearance in the mirror. Where did the time go?

The war left me craving peace and normalcy, so I decided to take my parent's advice and live as a Muggle for two years in London. I worked at a wonderful little bookstore, lived on my own, let my relationship with Ron mature, and took the maximum amount of courses needed to get a degree in psychology in exactly two years. Don't get me wrong, it was hard work, but I enjoyed every moment of it. After graduation, I decided to rejoin the wizarding world and took a job as a magical law officer. Harry and Ron were shocked I didn't want to be an esteemed Auror, but I really wanted to study the patterns and habits of common criminals. I find it simply fascinating.

So, for five years I've work overtime, weekends, and holidays to rise in ranks. That is, until I got the promotion of my life.

Yes, I am the head of the _entire_ Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

This particular promotion came as a surprise; I had half-expected Draco Malfoy to get the position. He may have been a foul git in school, but he's changed…somewhat. Yes, he still has that arrogant smirk, that pompous swagger, and the ability to grate the nerves of many; but he has the right training, the skills, and the exact authoritativeness that a department like this needs to function correctly. How do I know all this?

He was my partner three of the five years I've worked here.

* * *

(_Two months ago)_

"_I do believe that congratulations are in order. The, and I quote," he clears his throat, reciting a sentence from today's Daily Prophet from memory, "'Youngest head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement in three centuries'__,_" _Malfoy says in his conceited tone, leaning against the open doorway of my new office. He's looking awfully smug in perfect, tailored robes._

_My new junior assistant, Melissa, swoons at the sight of him (all the women do), giggling and blushing as if she'd never been in a room with a man before. I roll my eyes at her absurd behaviour. _

_Yes, he's attractive; I honestly see what they're all gawking over, but really…must she drool?_

_Of course, Malfoy, knowing his power over her, winks and says, "Well hello there…" _

_Her blush deepens, "G-g-good a-a-a-afternoon, Mr. M-M-Malfoy." _

_I ask her to leave for a few minutes, unable to tolerate her stammering a minute longer. She stares at him, gaping with her mouth slightly ajar. It takes a few moments, but she slips past him in the doorway, timidly excusing herself and blushing when she realizes he's so close to…_

_She stumbles on her own dress robes. I have to fight not to laugh when she catches herself, blushes fiercely, and runs off. Poor thing. _

_Draco Malfoy is just a mere mortal, no matter what he thinks of himself…seriously._

_Humored, he watches her go then turns back to me with a sly smirk on his face, "Glad to see your assistant has your penchant of being clumsy and a bit barmy in the head."_

_Annoyed, I shed my dress robes, smooth my business pant suit, fold my arms, and lean against my desk, "She only tripped because she was intimidated by you."_

_After raising an eyebrow, he replies snootily, "Intimidated? Please, that silly girl was drooling. It was quite disturbing actually."_

_Silently I agree. Sitting on my desk comfortably, crossing my legs, and yawning sarcastically I say, "As much as I'm enjoying this stimulating conversation with my old partner…is there a reason you're still standing here?" I regard him with a curious glance and pop my knuckles._

"_Actually, I only came to offer my congratulations and—"_

_Smiling, I interrupt. "Well, Malfoy, isn't this just like old times at school? You must be used to me being better than you by now. You really should be, after all, it really __**is**__ the story of your life," I smartly reply, propped against my desk with arms folded, observing him with a playful glare._

_He shrugs evasively, "As much as you get off on being a department head, I never wanted this ruddy job. I actually recommended you for the position. I happen to enjoy having a life…shame you don't have one."_

_Ignoring these little quips is a skill I've mastered over the last three years. Well, that and not hexing him for being such a git sometimes, "So, I heard your job was open. Are you going back to being an Auror?"_

_A smile creeps across his face momentarily, "Oh quite the contrary; that's what I was came in here to discuss with you before you so savagely interrupted me." He pauses, for what I can only assume, is effect. "Granger, you're looking at your brand new Secondary, just one step under you."_

_In utter shock, I mumble, "What?"_

"_It looks like we're going to be working together very closely, Granger. Just like – what did you say again? Oh yes, just like old times." _

_I frown._

* * *

To be honest, I'm happy that it's him. Yes, he's still a prat and we clash, but he's matured a great deal.

Following the war, Malfoy became an Auror; much to the shock of everyone.

Honestly, he was a damn good one. So when he inexplicably decided to become a magical law officer a year after his mother died, I didn't understand. Why would he throw away his esteemed career fighting dark wizards, witches, and aspiring dark lords? Why throw all of that away to pursue and capture common criminals and fugitives, investigate crimes, and collect evidence like the common Muggle detective?

I never had the chance to ask. Instead, the morning he showed up in the department I was too busy dealing with my heavy work-load because I was in need of a partner and after that…well, I was too busy struggling to convince the department head that he _wasn't_ the perfect partner for me. This, obviously, didn't work.

Of course, being his partner was an _interesting_ experience. Why?

Because he's Draco Malfoy…and I'm Hermione Granger.

* * *

_(Last year)_

"_Malfoy, this isn't a good idea," I repeat as we enter into the dimly lit house in pursuit of a criminal named Thomas Fines, "Maybe we should send a Patronus to the Aurors for help." Because Merlin knows I've watched enough Muggle movies to know that following a dangerous criminal into a house isn't the best idea. _

_Especially when that criminal is a confessed killer. He escaped from an American wizarding prison nearly two weeks ago and with some help from people we've already apprehended, he came to England. Malfoy and I tracked him to Scotland after scattered sightings led us from London to this abandoned house. _

"_Quit whining, Granger. We can handle this. He's just one psychopath…without a wand. Lumos." A small beam of light erupts from his wand, somewhat brightening the empty foyer._

_Lighting my own wand, I argue in a hoarse whisper, "He killed three wizards, Malfoy! Let's just call for backup. We don't know if he's wandless for certain and it's better that we be safe than sorry."_

"_So says the girl who runs towards danger like the batty Gryffindor she is."_

_Huffing, "At least I think things through, unlike you."_

"_By the time everyone gets here, he'll be gone; I'm sick of—"_

_Suddenly, Malfoy's body is thrown against the wall with a resounding smash. He slumps helplessly to the floor. The sheer force sends pictures and paintings crashing down as the entire infrastructure of the house rattles and shakes. I have to dodge falling debris and find myself sprawled on the floor as well. Malfoy's groans and cursing let me know he's not too badly hurt._

_By the time I get back to my feet, Malfoy is in front of me…and there's a hand around his neck. _

_Thomas Fines has made an appearance._

_He stands just a head taller than Malfoy, who is bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and he's staring at me with cold blue eyes, wand pointed threateningly. "Well, hey there, lil' lady," his southern American accent is very charming, but I can see the menace in his eyes. He looks haggard from all the running; matted brown hair and torn clothes make him look nothing like his old photos._

_Any other time I would take him down by force, but I've read his file extensively. I know I can't play like this._

_Evenly, I reply, "Good day…fine weather we're having, hmm?"_

_Malfoy apparently snaps out of his own pain when hearing this comment and I wish he'd just shut up, but of course he has his own plans…which involve yelling, "What the ruddy hell are you going on about, Granger? Stun him!"_

_Thomas' grip around Malfoy's neck tightens, shutting him up. Thank Merlin!_

_He chuckles, "Now, now, why would she do a thang like that? Stunnin' me isn't the smartest decision, 'cause if she even thinks 'bout doin' that, I'll kill yuh."_

_Nonchalantly, I wave my hand, "Oh, go ahead and kill him. It'll be of no consequence to me. He's a git anyway." I can't look at Malfoy directly in the face, because if I do, Thomas will see the concern I have for him._

_Malfoy gasps, while Thomas looks humored, "Really now?"_

"_Granger!"_

_Without him noticing, I find my wand and with a mental "Accio wand," it's now in my possession. Thank Merlin that I practiced wandless magic for a while. I make sure it stays behind my back. "Seriously, he tormented me in school for six years, called me a Mudblood, and nearly got me killed in 6th year. So you can go ahead and kill him and walk right out of here. No one has to know."_

_Thomas smiles thinly, "Well, boy," he shakes his head, "Looks like you should've picked a different partner; perhaps one who cares." Pushing the wand into Malfoy's side harder, he's no longer paying attention to me, focused on his next kill. _

_I pull my wand out to my side slowly. I have one shot to make this right and I better make it good._

"_You know, it's really a shame she doesn't care. It's gonna to make killin' yuh—"_

"_STUPEFY!"_

_The red beam hits him directly in the forehead, making him release his grip on Malfoy and drop to the floor with a reverberating rumble; the "stolen" wand skates along the floor until it hits the wall. More pictures fall and I have to quickly repair the ceiling before it comes crashing down on us. Without any further hesitation, my otter patronus spurts from my wand, scampering off to deliver the message to the ministry._

"_It's over," I breathe a sigh of relief. _

_When Malfoy says nothing, I look at him…only to find him glaring._

_Oh, he's livid and still bleeding from the head a little. _

_I know better than to heal him now. I haven't seen him this angry since the time I decided to take on an evil witch by myself…a fight that put me in the hospital for a week. He saved me only so he could yell at me for being so damn stupid and bloody proud. Even in the dim room, I see his face flush angrily and his fists clench. _

"_What's wrong, Malfoy?"_

_There is a quick calm before the storm. Mentally, I retrieve an umbrella before he lets loose, "You were going to let him kill me. I can't believe it! We've been partners for two years now and you were going to let him kill me over—" _

_It's best to remain calm with him when he gets like this. So I roll my eyes and interrupt coolly, "Seriously, Malfoy, when did you become so dense? I wasn't going to let him kill you."_

_Hotly, he snarls, "Oh, really now? Because—"_

"_Criminals like Thomas Fines," I refer to the stunned body on the floor between us, "Enjoy seeing people suffer. If you would've – oh, I don't know – read his file instead of Spell-o-taping Richland to his chair, you would've known that. He would've killed you a lot faster if he knew I actually cared about you."_

_It takes about a second for his anger to dissipate, "You care about me, Granger?"_

* * *

We may fight, squabble, and piss each other off, but at the end of the day I have to agree that not only do we make an excellent team…I _do_ care about him.

He may no longer be my partner, but he'll always remain my friend. We've grown close over the years. We've been through a lot together. He's saved my life and I've saved his; he's even taken a hex for me. Unselfish I know; I was just as shocked as anyone that he sacrificed himself for me, but Malfoy has really changed a lot. I've noticed it more than anyone.

If in a tight situation (and we've been in _plenty_) there is no one I trust more with my life and safety. We're a lot alike; more than I ever realized. He's poised, sharp, resilient, and willful, just like me. Sometimes I trust him more than my closest friends. Malfoy is confident, while Harry sometimes questions himself. Malfoy is relaxed, while Ron easily flies off in anger….

Speaking of Ron, after six years of dating (and arguing about our future for four), Ron and I have finally reached a suitable agreement about the biggest commitment of our lives.

Yes, we're getting married after five years of engagement as soon as this Quidditch season ends and he returns from two months of training. It gives me six more months to plan a small and sensible wedding.

* * *

_(Two and a half months ago)_

"_Excuse me everyone. Hermione and I, well, we have an announcement to make," Ron stands up at the dining table, pulling me up with him. I suppress my frown, groan, and reluctance to spill the news. "We finally set a wedding date!"_

_Mrs. Weasley squeals excitedly. Mr. Weasley slaps his son on the back, a job well done. Ginny looks at me quizzically, but I just return her smile weakly. No, I didn't mention it to her when we went baby clothes shopping yesterday. Harry hugs us both. Luna claps her hands. Neville says, "It's about time." And a few minutes later, everyone toasts to our happiness and good health._

_I'm instantly bombarded with questions._

_George's girlfriend, Kristen: "Who are your bridesmaids going to be?"_

_Luna: "Is Ginny your matron of honor?"_

_Mrs. Weasley: "Have you started dress shopping?"_

_Harry: "Where is it going to be?"_

_Kristen again: "Oh, Hermione! You're going to make a beautiful bride—"_

_Mrs. Weasley: "Yes she will. Oh, I can't wait for her to start popping out little grandbabies for me."_

_Ron grins excitedly, loving the idea of children with me. _

_Ginny makes a face, controlling her laughter. _

_Harry looks uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. _

_I excuse myself to throw up._

* * *

October 20th: The day our families finally leave me the hell alone about this ruddy wedding. I couldn't be happier.

To be frank, our families and friends are the _only_ reason I'm marrying Ron in October. Contrary to popular beliefs, we're not Harry and Ginny; I don't wish to marry young, start a family, and settle into suburbia. They married at nineteen and eighteen, respectively. And while I was a weeping maid of honor at their wedding, I stood next to Ginny at that alter knowing that I could _never _do that to myself.

* * *

_(Five years ago)_

_I look back at Ron, only to find him on his knee._

_What the hell is he doing?_

_He's supposed to be grabbing his bags, not on his knee. His portkey leaves in ten minutes and I don't have time for games. He has to leave for Quidditch training in Greece and I have to do this before he leaves. If only I can muster up the nerve. _

"_Hermione, will you marry me?"_

_Simply, I look down at him, "We're too young."_

"_You're twenty, I'm nineteen, and we love each other," he argues gently, "What's the problem?"_

_I want to tell him I can't marry him, but I don't. I want to tell him I don't love him anymore, but I won't. I want to tell him I asked him over here today to break up with him, but I can't. I've fought so long to be here right now, with Ron on his knee asking me to love him for the rest of our lives. Maybe this is the thing I'm looking for to make me see what everyone else does. _

_They say Ron and I belong together; that we're perfect, that we make sense. They want us to be like Harry and Ginny…and deep down I should too. Harry and Ginny just make sense. It's like Harry was made for Ginny and vice versa. They're fluid together. Where she falters, he's right there to pick up the pieces; if she doesn't know something, he has the answer. They fly together in sync. Hell, they even make sense when they're fighting. I should want that for Ron and me. I should want us to make as much sense as they do, but deep down, I'm not so sure we do. If I don't have an answer, I know better than to ask Ron. And when we fight? Merlin...it's terrible. _

_But I knew all this; I knew all about Ron's volatile temper when I met him and I still pined after him for years. When I look back on it, I still wonder why I liked him so much. He picked fights with me, called me a traitor when I went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, and started dating Lavender Brown to make me jealous. But somehow we managed to get together. Maybe if we can get to this point without cursing each other, then maybe we can make it for the long haul. _

"_Hermione…"_

_Truthfully, "We're still too young."_

_Of course, he supplies a solution, "We don't have to get married tomorrow…"_

"_Okay..."_

"_So will you marry me?"_

_Hesitating, I hope I'm not making a mistake, "I will."_

* * *

Sometimes I do think marrying him is a mistake.

Ron and I hardly agree on anything. He wants to marry now; I still want to wait. He wants to live in a wizarding town; I want to live in a Muggle town, to be closer to my family. He wants to start having kids as soon as we're married and I don't. He wants four kids and I'm not even sure I want kids _at all_. He loves the thought of having kids with me, but the idea of frizzy redheads running around makes me queasy.

He talks. I listen.

I talk. He rants.

We can't have a decent conversation without yelling and I'm so tired. I concede.

He's so sure it'll work out this way, so I decide to go along with it and hope for the best. I wish I had his confidence. I wish thinking about it didn't make me ill. I don't know how to be a wife or a mother, but we've been together forever. Maybe I can learn. Maybe his confidence will ooze onto me.

Well, maybe I know how to be a wife, but I just don't want to be his.

No, let's think positive thoughts.

We've been through a lot together: War, death, school.

Good times.

Bad times.

He's one of my best friends, so why shouldn't we get married? He loves me. I...well, maybe his love will be the proof I need to be sure I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life.

Maybe I can learn to love him like he loves me.

* * *

_(Last week)_

"_Ginny, I don't think I can go through with this," I sob into the phone. _

_I know it's late. I know. _

_One moment I'm sitting here looking at colours for the reception tables, calmly sipping a cup of tea. The next I'm shaking and crying into my hands, experiencing a full-blown panic attack. I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is sit here and sob; the knowledge that I'm making the biggest mistake of my life looming over my head._

"_Hermione, calm down, you're just a bit—"_

"_No, I don't know what I'm thinking marrying him!"_

"_You're stressed and tired and no—"_

_I'm damn near hysterical when I yell, "I don't love him anymore! I can't marry him!"_

"_You've got cold feet. You need to—"_

"_It's not! I don't!"_

"_This is the third time we've had this conversation in two weeks. Just stop what you're doing; go take a bath, call Ron, and talk about your fears—"_

_Sobbing harder, "He thinks I'm being a drama queen!"_

_I note the irritation in her voice, "Ron is such a bloody git sometimes."_

_Grumbling, I take a deep breath to calm down, wiping my eyes, "I know that."_

_I hear her moving around, "Give me five minutes. I'll be there and you can talk to me. You're not being a drama queen. You're under a lot of stress; you have a new job and you've decided to solely undertake the job of planning your entire wedding. I'm sure you haven't slept for days and I won't stand it any longer. Tomorrow we'll go look for table cloths and centerpieces. I'm not letting you do this alone."_

_Sighing, "I don't even want to look at another damn thing for this wedding."_

"_Okay. We'll go out and you choose."_

* * *

Anyway, other than that horrific mess, life is still good.

In addition to my new promotion and impending marriage, everyone is in good health. I just finished paying off my Muggle house. Ginny and Harry welcomed baby James Potter into the world two months ago and Luna and Neville are engaged. They're due to get married two months before Ron and me. He and Luna just got jobs at Hogwarts. He's teaching Herbology and she's teaching Care of Magical Creatures. Also, they just bought a little home in a small town just outside of Hogsmeade.

Overall, life is pretty good.

But there's an old saying, _"If it seems too good to be true, then it is."_

I pride myself in distrusting those silly, old sayings. They aren't backed by reason, empirical evidence, science, logic, or anything worth mentioning. Of course, everything changes when I walk up the stairs to Ron's flat to wish him a safe trip to Bulgaria for a Quidditch match.

"_Oh! Harder! Baby! Harder!"_

Bloody hell. Confused, I turn the key in the lock as more sounds emit from the flat. I roll my eyes.

Damn.

I'll have to close my eyes and Apparate to Ron's bedroom. I want to quickly discuss plans for our small wedding and spend the rest of the time listening to him talk about Quidditch…like I care. This should leave Dean and his companion plenty of time to either conclude their shag-fest or take it to his room.

"_Yes! Merlin! You feel so good!" _a deeper voice rings out, muffled.

Dean shares a flat with Ron because they both play Quidditch and need a place away from their parents when they're home. I hate it. As you hear, he's always bringing women (Muggles and witches alike) home. But Dean is one of his best mates and, to be honest, I don't have the energy to bicker. He won't be living here much longer.

I guess I just need to calm down. I'm already more irritable than usual. I just hate the idea of getting married. _A__nd_, not to mention, I'm sexually frustrated because Ron decides to morph into a barmy traditionalist and forgo sex until our wedding night.

"_Faster!"_

I roll my eyes. Silencing charm anyone?

Opening the door, I silently creep in. I'm hoping to avoid interrupting or causing any awkwardness and quietly praying Dean and his girl-of-the-night aren't in the living...

My mouth drops.

"_Oh! Ron!"_


	2. Screaming Infidelities

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything. I'm okay with this._

Author's Note: I like to post in bulk. 4/25/08: Thanks Kate04 for her beta work! :)

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_(A few moments later)_

"_Oh! Ron!"_

Yes…no mistake there. It's Ron, _my _Ron. Not Dean who is wildly shagging a slender, pretty, platinum blonde woman whom I don't even recognize on the couch, looking like he's having the ride of his life. Pun intended. I pick my jaw up off the floor, completely stunned. Is this for real? Roughly I pinch myself. It has to be a dream. No, a nightmare! It's the only way I can rationalize this.

I rub my pinched arm. The distinctive sound of someone getting thoroughly shagged doesn't vanish and I'm not in bed chuckling at the nightmare. This is real. This is very real. Honestly, they look as ridiculous as they sound; grunts, moans, and…copulation sounds fill my ears (if you catch my drift). The smell of sex and sweat saturate the air, making everything crystal clear for me. The scene might have made me gasp and vomit. Well, if I weren't so bloody _calm_.

Now wait just a damn second! Stop! Freeze! Rewind!

Calm? I'm not supposed to be _calm_.

I'm supposed to be livid! I'm supposed to be traumatized! I'm supposed to be disconsolate! I'm supposed to madly throw hexes, curses, Unforgivables, and, and, and…dishes!

My fiancé of five years – the man who's been depriving me sex for two months, the man I'm set to _marry_ in six months – is shagging someone else behind my back. And I'm composed? I know it doesn't make sense.

See, I imagined the_ "what if I caught my boyfriend cheating"_ scenario in the past with Parvati Patil and a newly cheated-on Hannah Abbot.

* * *

_(Three months ago)_

"_What about a Leg-Locker curse?" Hannah suggests naïvely, sipping her tea. _

_I laugh when Parvati scoffs, "That's just weak, now you know you can do better than that!"_

_She spends the next minute thinking while Parvarti scopes out a hot guy from the some foreign Quidditch team I barely recognize. I only know he plays Quidditch because of his robes...and because she told me._

"_Okay, how about a Fur spell? No one wants to be covered in fur, right Hermione?" she looks at me hopefully._

_I just chuckle and shake my head. Hannah is such a nice person, which is why she's always getting cheated on. She would've never survived in Gryffindor. If Ron cheated on me, I'd dangle his arse over a cauldron of Bubotubers and throw live spiders on him. Oh, yes, there's nothing like a little psychological trauma to brighten my day._

"_Oh you naïve little Hufflepuff," Parvati starts, shaking her head, "Tsk, tsk. You have so much __to learn. Let me tell you how the Gryffindors do it. See, first, I would use a Confundus charm to get him off sorts, a Conjunctivitis curse to mess with his vision, a quick fire charm to his robes, and finish him off with a quick **Impervious**__ so no one can put out his flames. He'd be toast…and I do mean literally."_

_I almost choke on my tea from laughing. _

_Hannah looks horrified, shrieking, "You'd set him on fire?"_

_Parvati ignores the shrill in her voice and replies simply, "Not for too long; just enough to scare him. I'm thinking first degree magical burns. He'll be in St. Mungo's for a week maybe, two at the most. That gives me enough time to ruin the rest of his life."_

_Yes, she's completely serious._

"_You Gryffindors are evil," Hannah shakes her head._

"_Perhaps," Parvati shrugs. "But I've never been cheated on."_

* * *

This is a situation I know how to handle, but now that it's happening to me and I can't help but stand here…_calm_. I bet you're all wondering why.

"_Oh! Miranda!"_

I should be hurt that Ron is a liar and a cheater and has played me for a fool. I should also be hurt because he is the one who came up with the celibacy idea that has made me so agitated lately. No, not because Ron is incredible in bed, but because mediocre sex is better than no sex at all. Yes, I should be infuriated beyond belief. But I'm not. There's a funny little thing called karma and it's a bitch. What goes around comes around…and around. I should feel all kinds of emotions, but all I feel is indifference.

The more I think, the longer I stand here and the more I come to terms with the truth. I'm just as much of a liar as Ron.

I don't love him any more than I did the day he proposed. I will never love him. Remaining calm while he's shagging this Miranda woman further signifies that truth. It's been gnawing at me since we set the wedding date. I don't love him. Falling out of love is hard to accept, but letting go is even harder; all because of this pathological need I have to spare everyone's feelings except my own.

Don't get me wrong, we've had some _really_ good times, but in the end, I'm not with him for the right reasons. I only stayed because I'm supposed to; because I didn't want to hurt him. Because I hoped I could love him. I let myself listen in everyone's opinions, _"You and Ron are predestined to be together; it's always been Harry and Ginny… you and Ron."_

Lies, denial, false hope, and stupidity have kept me in this relationship that's been nothing more than a sexual friendship for years…and I have to end this now.

Three…

I pop my knuckles. "Well, as I recall, wasn't this celibacy thing your idea?"

Two…

The shagging stops as his eyes dart over to mine.

Waving, I say, "I'll just wait here while you two get dressed."

One…

Chaos erupts.

Ron lets out a very unmanly "Eek! Hermione!" and throws the blond off him, struggling to get his pants back on. He doesn't look at me and it's a good thing because I'm virtually in tears at the sight of Ron's white arse...

Tears of laughter.

The above-mentioned blond lands in a heap on the floor, looking irked, but scampers to conceal her body, blushing when she sees me. Ron trips and falls face first on the couch with a loud "_Oof!_" and rolls onto the floor where he quickly gets decent before bouncing up. I clear my throat to cover my amusement.

Ron peers at me, crimson. I know what he's going to say. "_It's not what it looks like, Hermione."_

"Hermione," he pants, "it's not what it looks like."

Close enough. I chuckle ruefully, "Okay."

I detest those words worse than, _"It's me, not you."_ I'm not daft. This is _exactly_ what it looks like. He's shagging the bloody daylights out of someone who's not me _and_ looks to be doing it better than he ever did with me. Prat.

With a crack, Miranda gathers her clothes and wordlessly Disapparates, leaving us alone.

"It's not!"

Aiming for resentment with my next words, they emerge attached to a sarcastic smirk and folded arms, "_Right_…and that bird, Miranda, just lost her footing and accidentally fell on your-"

"Look," Ron exhales, "it was a mistake. I felt nothing for her, it was just physical." He advances hesitantly, with his hands out; as if I'm a lion that escaped from the zoo, ready to attack anyone who gets too close. Believe me, if I cared enough, I would've attacked already. Pleading with his eyes, Ron touches my arm, begging for forgiveness and all I can do is stand there, indifferent. "Forgive me, please. I love you."

I chuckle disappointedly, "You have a funny way of showing it."

"We were celebrating the win over Ireland," Ron explains. "I was drinking—"

"Funny, I don't smell anything on your breath."

"Hermione! Just listen to me."

"Oh, you want me to listen to you?" I feign ignorance, "I don't think it's necessary to divulge how you got here with her. You should do us both a favour and save your voice. It must be weak from yelling _her _name." I stop and rest my hands on my hips, inwardly smirking and praising myself for being so bloody witty.

Ron squirms at the sharpness of my voice, "I deserve that, I do—"

"You're right you do." Half expecting him to tell me to stop cursing, I scowl, daring him to call me out.

He doesn't take the bait, "I made a bloody mistake. Not everyone can the patron of perfection like _you_."

Of course, when in doubt, attack Hermione. Typical, juvenile Ronald Weasley behavior at its best and I'll be damned if he tries to seize the opportunity to drag me into his guilt. Fame allows Ron to live in a world where he doesn't have to accept responsibility for his actions; where he can do what he feels with no repercussions. I don't live in that world and the more he immerses himself in it, the more I don't like it.

"I think we're _both_ to blame here."

Rage blurs my vision and I stare incredulously, eyes wide as ire builds. I can't stop it, not even if I want to, which I don't.

I'm not usually a violent person, but he –

I impulsively hit him. Yes, my fist connects with his cheek and he lets loose a shocked and pain-filled shriek, holding his face.

Witnessing his face twist in pain is therapeutic. "How dare you, Ronald Weasley!" I seethe with irrepressible anger, "How dare you try to put a shred of blame on me? You don't have the right to! I didn't do anything wrong; I was loyal to you, Ron. I was going to sacrifice my own aspirations to marry you. I'm not the cheater and I'm not the one that came up with that stupid celibacy commitment and broke it after two bloody months."

Ron glares back, incensed, "Wonderful. You'll remind me of that everyday, huh?"

"No," I reply simply, "Because you aren't worth it. You aren't worth anything to me. Not anymore."

He snorts, folding his arms, "When did I_ ever_ mean anything to you, Hermione?"

Pain and disgust course through my veins; fists clench. I literally have to refrain from whipping out my wand and transfiguring him into a frog. "You've always meant something to me! Always! Ever since third year!"

"Obviously not enough to marry me when we first got engaged!"

"We were young! I had to—"

"You're wrong, Hermione! We didn't get married because of you!"

Swiftly, I'm spiraling out of control, "You're not even making sense, Ron! We were goingto get married in October! I loved you!"

Instantly, his features soften, "That's past tense, Hermione. I _love_ you. I _want_ to marry you. Can you say the same?"

Riled, I shoot back harshly, "Who are you to talk about love in any tense, Ron? You don't two-time the ones you claim to love."

"I do love you, Hermione, whether you believe me or not," he fixes his blue eyes on me, "I don't want to lose you…not like this, not ever. Tonight made me realize that I want to marry you more than ever before."

"Touching, really, but I don't share your sentiments," sneering acerbically, I storm past him. I don't even know where I'm going but I have to get away from him. I have to get away before I hex him to the point where he's unrecognizable to his bloody fans. Idiotically, Ron follows me, grabbing me by the arm. I slap him, "Don't you touch me! You lost all your privileges the moment you decided to shag that slag!"

His anger matches my own, "I made a mistake! One bloody mistake! You're willing to throw away six _years_ because of _one_ mistake? That's complete bollocks!" He grabs my hand before I can slap him again, so I kick him in the shin. He emits a few dozen curse words so loud a shirtless Dean emerges from his room, dazed, confused, and half-asleep.

"What the _hell_ is going on out here?" he asks, rubbing his tired eyes. A half-awake raven-haired girl emerges to check on him. She's barely dressed and doesn't care.

"Nothing," Ron sneers, rubbing his knee, glaring.

I lost my composure in the cloud of anger. "Nothing?" I shriek, blood scorching with unmitigated rage. I'm so offended; not because of his affair, but because he's trying to cheapen the severity of it, "Nothing? You call _cheating_ on your fiancé with some slag 'nothing'!"

Dean's eyes widen. The girl's mouth drops. Ron is sputtering out excuses.

"You shagged that girl? The blonde?" Dean asks in disbelief, "I thought she went home."

Sneering at Ron, who is still sputtering like a broken record, I reply audaciously, "Yes, Dean, the blonde. And if by, 'went home' you mean, 'shagging him for all she's worth on the couch,' then sure, she 'went home'."

They both wince, once at the ire in my voice and twice because he's a git. The girl disappears back into Dean's room, still in disbelief. She must have been her friend.

Dean looks in after her, makes a face, and looks back at us (more specifically at Ron), "You're on your own, mate." He shuts his bedroom door behind him.

"He's right, Ron, you _are_ on your own." Turning my head, I walk to the front door, reaching for the handle.

With desperation, "I swear it was the first time. I never cheated on you before!"

Glancing over my shoulder, "And you'll never have the opportunity to do it again."

"I didn't even like her!"

"Oh, so that's supposed to make it all right, Ron? Right," I chuckle, shaking my head, anger dissipating rapidly. I'm composed again, "I really want to thank you."

He looks at me quizzically, "What?"

"You heard me correct. Thank you," I smile wryly, "For insulting my intelligence and for your wonderful idea not to have sex. I'm happy to know that I don't have the disease that's going to make your prized possession fall off." I open the door to his flat. "Thanks to you I'm going to stop lying to myself, to you, and to everyone. I don't love you anymore. I only stayed out of obligation to our families, because I hoped that I would love you one day, and because everyone thought we were meant to be together. They're wrong and I'll never again let anyone pressure me into making decisions about my life. So, I thank you for giving me the courage to admit the truth."

"But-"

I take off his ring. "Thank you for six years of mediocre and boring sex, for helping me realize I can do so much better, and for making the process of moving on from this so much easier." I sit his ring on the table next to the door. "Thank you for cheating on me; it's the best thing you could have done. Thanks for making the process of dumping your arse a lot easier, and for stopping me from making the worst mistake of my life."

With a smile on my face, I walk out the door with a happy swagger in my step, letting it shut softly behind me.


	3. Holiday From Real

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

Author's Note: Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_(A week later: April 27__th)_

After a week-long vacation in France to get away from everything, I'm officially having the worst day of my life. Of course, it's Friday.

What's wrong with Fridays? I hate Fridays, always have. Such a painful part of my week. The weekend is attainable Thursday night, more than any other night of the week.

I can taste it, touch it, smell it, and it's so damn close…but why can't I have it? Because Friday exists solely to taunt me with the weekend, dangling it in front of my face in a, _"Ha-ha, you can't get it, why do you even try?"_ manner. I always reach for it and by the time I take a mid-morning coffee break, I'm sullen and grouchy. I swear time stands still on Fridays when all I want to do is go home and enjoy my weekend. Five minutes on Friday is equivalent to seven hours on any other day of the week, I swear. By lunchtime, I'm forlorn because Friday has won another battle; it will never end when I want it to. Fridays listen to no one and end when it wants to end.

If I had my way, Friday wouldn't exist. We would have _six_ days in the week, an even number - I love even numbers. They're uncomplicated.

Running with the idea that Friday hates me: last Friday I catch Ron cheating, and this week I wake up an hour late. Not to mention, there are at least ten charmed letters, red rose petals on my perfect kitchen floor…and a sheepish, flushed Ronald Weasley standing in the middle holding a dozen roses and a sign that says 'I'm sorry'. Not the sight I need to start my day. Another bad Friday, here I come.

* * *

_(Five minutes ago)_

_Scowling, "How did you get in my house?"_

"_Your anti-Apparition wards were down and I overheard Ginny tell Harry that you were back from France last night and I thought this was my one chance to prove to you that I'm sorry. Forgive me, Hermione, take me back, and give me a chance to help you fall back in love with me." Nervously, he extends the flowers out to me._

_I just stare at him as if he were the man on the moon, "I'm sorry,__** what**__? You think you can just break into my house with some weeds and groveling cards and I'll just forgive you like that?" I snap my fingers loudly for effect, "Please, Ronald, I'm not one of your adoring fans so stop treating me like one."_

_Calmly, he extends the roses out to me again, "There's no need to have an attitude, Hermione."_

_Of course, I don't take them. I fold my arms, irritated with his presence and his nerve to talk to me as if he didn't cheat on me last week. Enraged, "You __**broke**__ into my house, Ronald! And __besides__ that, I __still__ have __every__ reason in the bloody __world__ to have an attitude with you!"_

_He places the roses on the table when it's obvious I'm not going to take them, "I only came here because __**you**__ ran away to France to cry for a week!" _

_I sneer. "I did __not__ run away! I needed a bloody vacation to cancel __all__ the plans I made for our wedding, explain things to my family, to be left __alone__, and to see the sun for once. Contrary to your beliefs, I did not__ spend a week crying over __you__! I wouldn't even waste my tears! Now, get__ out!" I savagely point to the door, snarling with extreme anger. "Get out now!__"_

_Instead of leaving, he decides he's going to do what he wants…and reaches for me, "I know what I did was stupid—"_

_Pushing him away as hard as I can, I pull out my wand, ready to hex him, "Well, __congratulations__, Ronald Weasley! Acknowledgment__ is__ the first step," I say caustically, "So now that we've come to terms with the truth that you're a cheating __arse__, can you please—for the __millionth time already__—get__ out!_"

* * *

I refuse to go to work angry. It's a personal principle.

Each day, I start with a pleasant jog or a yoga class before my day is annihilated by some of the Ministry employees.

In the two months that I've had this job, I've managed to totally re-order everything to make it more efficient and decrease the amount of paperwork and the time we spend doing it. It's hard running an entire department, especially one like the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which has so many sub-departments that I have to oversee. There is so much pressure to be perfect…and to be perfectly honest, my life would be much harder without Malfoy.

With meetings with the Minister and other departments, the press, newspapers, gossip, gala events, the constant amount of paperwork on my desk every morning, dealing with inter-departmental issues, a few hapless employees, interns, secretaries, and a few select men who love giving me a rough time because they don't like to work under a woman, not to mention all the little emergencies and crises that arise from day to day…it's no wonder Malfoy always has to stop me from pulling my hair out.

* * *

_(Last month)_

"_Enough with the tugging, Granger," Malfoy pulls my hands from my hair impatiently, rolling his eyes, "I highly doubt Weasley would appreciate a bald bride." _

_I detect a small disgusted sneer and look up from these files. Raising my eyebrow, I sit my quill down and pat down my messy hair, "What?" Not once__ has Malfoy even mentioned the fact that I'm marrying Ron. If I bring it up, he changes the subject…it's not like I care, but it is strange that he brings it up now of all times. "You've never—"_

"_Keep it up and I'll have to start calling you __Patches__," a small smile spreads across his face._

_I smirk for the first time all day, "Very funny, Malfoy."_

_He puffs his chest out with importance, "I happen to be a very funny person at times."_

"_Really?" I reply dryly, "Never would've guessed."_

"_Just like—" he pauses and clears his throat, "Nothing."_

_If there is something I do know about Malfoy, it's that he never hesitates nor does he ever cut himself off. So when he does, I'm blown away, "What were you going to say?"_

"_Nothing," he clips coolly, staring at the file on his desk. I reach up to tug on my hair absently and my voice catches when he grabs my hand, "Just __stop__ pulling your hair, Granger."_

_Granger…wow, I won't be a Granger much longer. The thought is staggering and I'm not sure if that's a good staggering or a bad staggering…I mumble, "You won't be able to call me that much longer."_

_He visibly tenses, "Don't remind me."_

_I look at him, but say nothing else. _

* * *

Quickly, I put up anti-Apparition wards to keep him from coming back. Blazing mad, my day is shot, I toss everything in the trash, clean the petals…and with a spell, my problems are gone…and now I'm late.

Of course, I would come back to work after a week of vacation on a Friday.

Scrambling into decent clothes, I skip the most important meal of the day, cut myself trying to open a can of cat food for Crookshanks who hisses unappreciatively when I drop the can in front of him, change my shirt, and nearly splinch myself Apparating to work. If it can't get worse, I break my heel when walking towards the entrance. Needless to say, it's followed by a loud and _very_ unladylike, "Shite!"

After drawing a few stares, I gruffly apologize, hobbling the rest of the way into the department with a scowl marring my facial features. I'm angry, hungry, and not in the mood for any nonsense. Thank Merlin that Malfoy has the day off because even though we're friends, I occasionally get the urge to jinx him when he's being particularly…_Malfoy_.

Of course, in the rule of bad days, I don't catch a break.

People are overtly staring at me as I shuffle by, gripping my briefcase in one hand and books in the other.

_Must be because I look like a barmy idiot hobbling,_ I muse rancorously, and cursing Ron.

When one of the interns starts looking at me and lowly whispering to a female Auror, I become suspicious.

I happen to know both of them. They don't speak to each other because the intern snogged the female Auror's ex-boyfriend at this past New Year's party. It was a nasty few days in the department, needless to say. So for them to be talking after I haven't been to work in a week…something has happened. Oh, no. I do not need this, not after such a great week. Approaching the department secretary, I compose myself just enough to force a smile, "Morning, Stella, how is my morning looking?" I ask sweetly, sitting the book on the counter and helping myself to a chocoball from the candy dish. It's the best thing I've had all morning and I help myself to another.

The older woman adjusts her glasses as she looks up, sympathetically patting my hand that rests on the counter, "Oh, Ms. Granger! Welcome back! Good morning! Mr. Malfoy handled everything in your absence and, well, I just want to extend my deepest sympathy. I'm so sorry for what happened to you! That little charlatan had the nerve to send dozens of roses over the past week, but I told the owl that he could take those roses back to Ronald Weasley and shove them up his arse."

Well put, although I doubt an owl can shove flowers up his arse, nevertheless, a smile breaks across my face—that quickly fades when a horrific reality becomes painfully obvious to me.

Everyone knows.

Stella's outburst causes a domino effect.

"_It's a wonder you came back so soon!" _

"_What a poofer!"_

"_She's a slag anyway!" _

"_Are you okay?"_

"_I don't know what I would've done!"_

"_He's a git!"_

"Eloise, what happened?" Melissa asks, walking in.

Tactless and loud Eloise Buchanan practically yells, "Hermione's fiancé, Ron, you remember Ron, right? Red hair, freckles, Quidditch player. Oh, you know him…_anyway_; he cheated on her with that slag, Miranda Witherby from the Department of Magical Games and Sports last Friday night. Where have _you_ been?"

"My sister had a baby, I was—"

"Nevertheless," she cuts Melissa off, "My cousin works there, said she came in this past Monday morning bragging about shagging Ronald Weasley in his living room."

"My friend was actually at the flat when it happened, well, she was with Dean Thomas," another voice informs.

"The nerve she has to even show her face!" is Melissa's reply.

_Bloody hell, they know more than I do,_ I think ruefully, almost snickering.

I clear my throat, "I'm fine, everyone, _really_. My life isn't over. Plenty of fish in the sea. Do I have any messages?"

"One from Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, Ms. Lovegood, and one from Mr. Longbottom. The last one is from the Minister," Stella hands me the letters, "Since Mr. Malfoy completed all your work for the next week, he wants you to take more time off…to heal."

My temper slips just a tad as I fume, "I'm okay. Everything is okay. I don't need another day off. I had a week."

"You should. We're a week ahead on paperwork, so you should just take today off. You need more time." Melissa says, extracting a lemon drop from another candy dish. "I can handle some of your work today and if there are any emergencies, I'll call Mr. Malfoy, if you need me to."

Stella nods in agreement.

I want to yell, _"I didn't even love him,"_ but I know that they will just nod and keep on insisting that I go home. People are now openly staring. "Nothing to see here," I growl at the spectators, annoyed with everyone and everything at the moment, "I'm perfectly fine, the last thing I need are your stares and pity," I reply insolently, "Don't you all have work to do? The Minister will be here next week to check up on our progress and I want everything to be perfect. I don't want any kinks and I want everyone to be up-to-date with everything." I bark at everyone just standing around, watching me, not caring which department they work in.

Melissa nods, "I'll make sure of it, Ms. Granger. Just go home."

I turn to her, trying to remain calm. "Thanks for your concern, but don't tell me how and when to do my job," I grab my book and briefcase, and crossly stomp off to my office at the end of the hall, disregarding shameless stares, compassionate looks, and murmurs.

My heated departure will be the talk of the department for the rest of the day. I just know it. By the time I leave this afternoon, the Unspeakables will know what happened…complete with reenactments.

I bump into another intern, who gapes, "Don't you have _something _to do?" I snap at the young brunette.

I think her name is Grace. Later, I'll apologize, take her out to lunch, and give her the rest of the day off—with pay. But right now I can't stand the sight of her and everyone else. She nods, frightened, and scampers away. I whip out my wand. With my head down, I mutter an unlocking spell, open my office door, step in, throw my briefcase and book on the small couch against the wall, lock the door with a strong Locking charm, block off the Floo, and finally exhale with my back resting against the door, eyes closed.

Peace and—"Well, Granger, it sounds like you've had an entertaining—"

"Say one more word and I swear, I'll Avada your stupid arse."

No, my ears aren't mistaking me as I so desperately wish. I open one eye carefully to confirm what I already know. Draco Malfoy is sitting behind my desk as if he belongs there, feet propped, playing with my favourite quill, and smirking like the arrogant git he is. I note the bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't be so petulant, Granger. And here I was about to do the noble thing and offer you a drink." Malfoy scoffs.

"Noble? Since when are you noble?"

"Always, Granger, always," he smiles arrogantly.

For a moment, I just look at him. Draco Malfoy is wearing black tailored dress pants, with a rich blue dress shirt and black dragon hide shoes. As usual, he looks disgustingly perfect—and, yes, he knows it. His hair, which is just a tad darker than peroxide blond, is no longer slicked back, but is styled to make him look like he rolled out of bed. It's a good look for him. Every time he walks by, nearly every female in the Ministry gives him a second — or a third — glance. Sadly, interns gape and giggle at the mere sight of him. It's ridiculous, I know. The problem is that I'm not blind. I do see why—not that I'd _ever _act on that attraction.

"It's a bit too early for my taste, sorry." Removing myself from the door, I frown, recalling, "Isn't it your day off?"

"Yes," He replies calmly dipping my quill in ink, bored. He looks up, "But I've been hearing all this interesting gossip about you. I knew you were coming back today from your — unexpected vacation — so I decided to come to figure out if it was true."

Glaring, I flop down in the chair in front of my desk, dropping my head on the table with a faint thud. "For Merlin's sake! How in the _hell_ did everyone find out so much so fast? It's true. There, you have it, straight from the horse's mouth. You can go ahead and laugh in my face, scorn me, sneer at me, do whatever it is that you want to because I really don't care. Nothing you say will make this day any worse."

I wait for him to laugh, he doesn't. I wait fifty seconds for him to say something snide, he remains silent. I wait ten more seconds because, and instead of _"You're pathetic,"_ he opens the bottle of Firewhisky and takes a shot. He pours another as I lift my head, brushing tamed curls from my face. He offers me the glass. "Take it."

Wait a second. Three questions:

First, why in the _hell_ is Draco Malfoy drinking Firewhisky in my office? Second, why in the _hell_ is he offering me a drink? Third, why in the _hell_ am I letting him drink in my office?

_Umm_…

"What are you doing?"

"Offering you a drink, silly witch." He replies, rolling his eyes.

_Umm_…

"Why?"

If I didn't know better, I would say that he's humoured, "Because I can, and it's clear that you need one to relax."

Sourly, I ignore him, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Granger, why are you questioning me?" Malfoy retorts impatiently, setting the glass in front of me. "I thought that we were friends. Can I _not_ offer you a drink and _not_ have ulterior motives?"

"Well," I clasp my hands together. "Let me think about that for a second. Oh, wait, I have the answer: No!" I answer sarcastically.

Malfoy flashes a genuine smile. I don't think I've ever seen one. "Well, I've already drank some, and it's not poison, I assure you."

If it were any other day, I would toss him out my office on his pretentious arse and slam the door. However, today is a day unlike any other. "Since when can I count on your word?"

Annoyed, he pushes the glass towards me. "Take the bloody drink, Granger."

It's irresponsible. It's wrong. It's stupid. We could get caught and that would cause a huge scandal. I can't. I won't. I am making a mistake.

I know everything, but I pick up the glass anyway.


	4. Not Myself

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. J.K. Rowling does. _  
_

Author's Note: None that I can think of at the moment._  
_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_(Fifteen minutes later)_

All that I know is that I'm not myself right now.

The first shot leaves me relaxed. I find myself speaking candidly to Malfoy about that night. Is this a mistake? I'm not so sure that it isn't. And as soon as I realize that, all thoughts of my stupidity dissipate and I open up candidly to the man who has been my partner for two years. I think I trust him. Well, I know that I trust him with my life. However, trusting him with my inner thoughts and feelings is a completely different matter. I do, however, know enough to safely say that my words won't ever leave this room.

Or so I hope.

Out of all the surprising things that have happened to me today, the most shocking thing is that Malfoy is actually listening to me. And with an open mind, it seems. I talk. He listens. I ask. He gives his honest opinions. I think about his words. He is completely unforgiving about them. That last part isn't so surprising as he is not the kind of man that regrets. Or so I believe.

Malfoy calls Ron a _"bleeding idiot"_ for cheating on me with that Miranda witch; a smile breaks out across my face. Truth be told, that is the best thing that anyone has said to me all day. _"_Yes, he is an idiot for cheating, but I'm an idiot for staying with him that long. I suppose it all evens out._"_

Sure, Draco Malfoy is sometimes a snobby git, but there's no one in this office that I can talk to as candidly as I am now.

"I'm not even upset about him cheating, _seriously_. Everyone thinks that I took the week off because I'm so hurt, but I'm not. I just needed to clear my mind, cancel all the wedding plans that I had already made, tell my family which was hard enough, get some sun, take a break, and have some alone time because Ginny and Harry were going to start leering and I didn't need that. That night just made me accept that I'm just as much of a liar and a fool as he is."

Malfoy's curious blond eyebrow threatens to touch his hairline, "Hermione Granger and the word "fool" don't belong in the same sentence—and if you tell anyone that I said that I'll deny it."

Leaning back in my seat, I smirk, "Well, in the case of Ronald Weasley, it does. I was going to make the biggest mistake of my life by marrying him. I don't even_ love_ him, didn't when he proposed or any day after. I was prepared to lie to him, me, and the entire world for the rest of my life because everyone just knew that we were destined to be together."

He makes a face and then, something strange happens. His laughter fills the room and I stare at him as if he's gone nutty. Because he has. Really. I've never seen him laugh so hard. "That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard," he states as he slaps his knee, "People who rave about destiny are batty little wankers who can't get a bloody date."

I'm drawing rings around my glass with my fingers. I look up at him suddenly, "Huh? Explain what you mean by that."

Sure, he aggravates me, but I respect him. He's honest and brash, but I trust his opinion wholly. Malfoy isn't going to mollify me, tell me what I want to hear, nod politely, and play nice. No, nice isn't really his style. He detects the flaws that I conceal and he isn't afraid to call me on my shite. He never lets me get away with anything, makes me see myself for who I truly am, and is completely honest with his opinions.

I guess that's the reason why people didn't like him in school; he reads people phenomenally well.

"What do they know about destiny? They aren't seers."

"So, Malfoy, you don't believe in destiny?"

We lock eyes; gray on brown. "Of course I do, Granger." He pours us another shot of Firewhisky, "But people who give it more credit than it deserves set themselves up for disappointment later. Things change, and people do, too."

The second shot makes a burst of warmth spread throughout my body, leaving me slightly dizzy with a content smile on my face. Resting my elbow on my desk, I lean my chin against my open palm, watching him take another drink. His lips are pink. I've never even noticed how firm they look or. That's it! I've gone nutters.

Still, I didn't expect Malfoy to be so wise. He's usually a wise-arse, so this is a welcomed change. I discard my robes, revealing a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. He smirks. "Never knew you wore skirts under those robes. And," He pauses I never noticed how nice your legs were."

"Piss off, you bloody wanker."

He laughs at my bad language. "I like it when you curse."

I chuckle, "You do?"

Ron hates it.

* * *

_(Two years ago)_

"_Cursing is so unladylike," Ron says in the midst of an argument. _

_Heatedly, I stare him down. "Since when are you the chief of clean mouths?"_

"_You used to call me out on it all the time. You never__ cursed before, and I'm not used to it. But I wish you'd stop. It's strange." _

* * *

It's okay for him to curse, but not me. Just like it's okay for him to break the rules, and not me. It figures. Well, fuck that and fuck him.

After nodding at my last question, Malfoy stares at me intently from across the desk. I never realized how grey his eyes were. For the first time in my life, I wonder what he thinks when he looks at me; what he thinks _of_ me. I groan under my breath. I need to stop thinking like this. It can never lead to anything good. First his lips, now his eyes—next thing you know I'm going to think he's attractive or something...or something. I pour myself a drink. I think I need it if I'm having these thoughts.

The third shot leaves me dazed.

Malfoy moves from behind the desk to the chair next to me. He's too close for comfort, yet I find myself comfortable under his gaze and relaxed around him. How strange is that? Perhaps it's because we know each other. Draco Malfoy is no stranger to me. As he speaks, I find myself watching his lips and hands. I lose myself in thoughts. I wonder. I pause. And slowly. I start to lose myself again. I've always had a low tolerance for Firewhisky. Why did I agree to this again? Maybe this was stupid.

"Granger," Malfoy whispers in my ear after I lose myself in a daydream involving hands and lips. My ears go scarlet, but the blush evenly spreads across my face. His voice is softer, but I think he's speaking at the same volume. I'm not too sure. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I smile, "Nothing at all."

After the fourth shot, I've come to terms with this attraction to Malfoy. Yes, _attraction_. Even the deaf, blind, mute, and stupid can see how bloody attractive this man is. Dammit, he didn't look like this at school. Okay, perhaps he did. All right, I _know_ he did. I remember all the girls in our year ogling over him in Fifth Year, but I was too busy pining after Ron to even notice this tall, blond, muscular—man with beautiful grey eyes sitting next to me.

He shrugs, resting his hand on the back of my chair as he speaks calmly, "You need to relax, Granger, live a bit. You're too by the book. I know you, I know you love power—you'll make mountains out of anthills so that you can avoid losing it." Malfoy exhales slowly, "You need to lose control every once in awhile."

"If I need to lose control, why am I here drinking Firewhisky in my office with you?" Turning my head, I arch an eyebrow. I know that I have lost control so many times that I've questioned whether I've ever actually been in control. I feel an ounce of triumph in the knowledge that I have managed to hide something from him, because he always seems to see right through me. Like glass.

"It's just a moment of temporary insanity. You know that as well as I do that you'll be back to denying it all tomorrow, or at least when the Firewhisky wears off."

I frown. "You don't know that."

He haughtily responds. "I think I do."

Folding my arms, I look at him seriously. "Do you really think that I need to relax?" I don't understand why I've asked him that question. It sounds completely insecure, and I am not that kind of woman. I am not the kind of person that needs reassurance, especially from someone like Draco Malfoy. Yes, it's become apparent that I never should drink Firewhisky again.

Malfoy shrugs. "Of course—" he pauses and looks at me, "No, because if you relax then you wouldn't be you."

"You say that like being me is dreadful." I mumble, slightly disheartened.

"Don't manipulate my words, Granger. You're just unique. It's definitely not a bad thing."

I stare at him for a long time after that, over-analyzing every single word that has come from his mouth and every action that he has done. And all that I can ask myself is: _Was that a compliment?_ Malfoy starts to clean up the drinks, but I stop him firmly. Malfoy looks at me, eyebrow raised. "Maybe I want another one."

After rolling his eyes, he smirks. "You don't know what the hell you want."

I straighten up. "How would _you_ know, Malfoy?"

His touch burns through my sleeve and sets my skin afire. My stomach flops. The last time my stomach took a dive like that, I blamed it on stress. This time, I blame alcohol because there is no way that Draco Malfoy's touch can make me feel so—refreshed. That's odd.

Malfoy leans back in his chair and looks at me. "Because you're being stubborn. You'd drink yourself silly to prove a point, and to be honest, a pissed Hermione Granger isn't exactly the most pleasant of sights. Last year's Yule party; need I say more?"

Wincing at the memory, I glare at him for a moment before I fold my arms across my chest. "Perhaps you have a point."

Pensively, I watch him fluidly move around my office, putting things back in order. He really likes order. His office is as neat as mine. I take a moment to appreciate his love for tidiness as I watch him clean my office. Finally, with one last wave of his wand, the Firewhisky and glasses disappear.

His hand on my shoulder makes me snap from my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

Its time to leave because I'm not sure if today was a mistake, or something I really needed. I bounce back and forth between both beliefs. All I really know is that I'm hungry, oddly content from the exchange, and sleepy from the mild drinking. Quickly, I stand to my feet, but stumble a bit because I forgot about my blasted broken heel. Malfoy reaches out, steadying me as he chuckles, "And where do you think you're going? Certainly not back to work."

Kicking off my shoes, I toss them in the general direction of the garbage. "No, I have the rest of the day off. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I need another day. Maybe when I come in tomorrow, it'll be old news."

"That's doubtful." Malfoy snorts.

"Leave me alone, I'm dreaming." I growl as I swat at him like an annoying fly. "I think that I'm going to go home and leave _you_ to fix anything that goes wrong in the department today." I mumble and open up the Floo. Today will be the perfect day to spend cuddling with Crookshanks, watching sappy Muggle romance movies, and eating pizza and chocoballs.

"Look, Granger, I—"

"Yes?" I cock a brow at him.

"Are you pissed?"

I pause and answer his question with a curious look on my face. "No, just a klutz."

"Good."

"What—"

In a flash and a small thud, my body is pressed against my office door. I'm startled to find Malfoy's face inches from my own, staring at me through cloudy gray eyes. I don't know this look on his face or what it means, but I know everything is about to change. And all I have to say is: Oh, damn.


	5. Up Against The Wall

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling does.

Author's Note: Warning! Warning! Smut ahead. Beware. You have been warned. If you are too young, you know the drill, skip ahead. I won't corrupt your minds any further. _snickers_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_(A moment later)_

He searches my alert eyes for another second before he kisses me as if his life depends on it.

Merlin, I feel like a new person. My entire body just—just _ignites_ as he engulfs my mouth. His hands rake through my straight hair and he quickly deepens the kiss. He's dominating me, and I don't mind relinquishing control, not at all. Malfoy presses me back against the door with slight force. As if some impalpable energy seizes me, I respond feverishly. The heat between us nearly kills me. I've never been kissed this passionately…and just like that, Malfoy makes every kiss I've ever had dull and insignificant_—_what the hell am I doing?

He pulls back slightly, breathing heavily and touching my cheek affectionately.

"What the—" I can't speak. I can't breathe. "_Hell_," I finish in my mind because I'm too breathless at the moment to speak.

I want him.

"_Shh_," he sighs against my cheek, nuzzling and dropping kisses all over my face. "I've wanted to do that forever—"

Butterflies, no, bats_—mutant bats_ flutter in my stomach at his honesty. I groan softly, his lips hover over mine, and I can't think. Merlin, this is _Malfoy_ making me feel hot all over this…and I…really don't mind…because I want him. Running my hands up his arms, I allow my fingers to bury themselves in his hair, "Do it again." I tell him in a voice that sounds foreign to my own ears. I'm unsteady. I can't stop it or this. I _want_ him. I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone in my entire life.

I'm quivering, waiting for him to kiss me again. If someone told me I'd be pressed against the door to my office, wanting Draco Malfoy like I do, I would've cackled raucously as I sent off a message to St. Mungo's, notifying them of the location of their newest mental patient. They'd have to be crazy to think that I'd ever want someone like Malfoy. But damn, I do.

Who's the crazy one now?

My eyes shut slowly, sighing softly when I grind against him.

"No," Malfoy hisses, but hips reacting instinctively. He grits his teeth. "Dammit, it's your turn." Smirking, I grind again, feeling him tense. He's about as turned on as I am. I do it again. "_Uhh_, shit, Granger." He forcibly grabs my hips to stop me, "Stop teasing and snog me already." Roughly, my hands tug his tailored jacket, pulling his body flush against mine. Malfoy grins, cupping my face. I'm a sucker for that. His lips hover over mine; I nip at his lower lip. He chuckles lowly, "Mmm…feisty, I like that."

"Glad you do," I moan softly, doing it again, but this time soothing it with a little peck before taking his lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. My fingertips brush the nape of his neck, making him shiver. His fingers are warm, no, hot on my skin; one of the many surprises from the cool, arrogant Draco Malfoy.

Lust and need cloud my eyes and torture my senses. My hands are everywhere, grabbing for anything I can reach; his face, his hair, his back, his shoulders. I can't get enough of him. For a second, I want to wonder where this build-up of this raw need came from, but I don't care anymore. Not really. Warm fingers slide down my neck and the front of my blouse, tugging at buttons, tugging at fabric until I do him a favour and pull the bloody thing off myself. Malfoy yanks off his shirt, pauses, takes a deep breath, looks at me again, and devours me into another kiss. The feel of his lips moving over mine is exhilarating. He wants this, too, and I can't think, can't see, can't breathe_—_and though I'm not, I_ feel_ drunk. I feel. That's all I can do. Feel.

My legs wobble when his lips move from mine and touch the bare skin on my shoulder for the first time.

"_Shit_," He mutters huskily, moving his hand down to cup my bra-covered breast, "You're beautiful."

I'm wearing a nice satin bra and I'm grateful for my luck as he tweaks my nipple over satin. Whimpering, I bite my lip, watching as Malfoy's face glaze over when he touches me one last time before expertly pulling my bra off, baring my nipples so he can touch them. Breathless, I throw my head back, moaning when Malfoy's mouth attaches itself to my nipple, sucking deftly before switching to the other, making me bite my lip. He lets his teeth scrape over it, looking up at me. Gasping, I arch my back, sighing as he kisses up my body, nuzzles against my neck.

The stimulation of his lips, hands, and even his soft moans is more than I can handle.

I almost purr like a cat, but instead I murmur, "I want you," while grinding against him hard. I grin when his breath catches.

After minutes of moving my hips against his, I take my turn to attach myself to something. My lips slowly run along his jaw and down his neck, sucking. Boldly, my hand simultaneously presses against his erection. It presses back. Hard. Nice.

Malfoy gasps, his head drops against the crook of my neck, heart being rapidly in his chest. "Fuck, Hermione," he whispers against my neck, nipping gently, I shudder as his hands run up and down my bare back, "Perfect…just perfect," he hisses.

His skin is warm and soft; my hands take a minute to explore, to his enjoyment. His muscles_—_who knew he was this built underneath tailored jackets and crisp white dress shirts. I should've. He did play Quidditch through school, after all.

My hands work the zipper of his pants; a sharp breath escapes Malfoy's mouth when I reach my hand in and start stroking him slowly. His hands move all over my body. _Shit_. Hissing when my thumb swipes the head, he locks eyes with me. "Feels good?" I ask, even though I know the answer. Moans, shivers, and hazy gray eyes tell me all that I need to know.

He lets me play for a while as his moans become louder and louder_—_ and then, he breaks.

"Bloody tease," He moans, kissing and nibbling on my collarbone one last time before I feel him yanking my skirt down and out of the way. With a touch of awe in his voice, he tells me I'm beautiful again. I believe him; the sincerity in his voice almost makes my voice catch. I forget I can hear voices in the hall. It's another day in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They're chattering on about business outside my door, coming and going.

I just pray they can't hear us.

Of course, all thought dissipates when Malfoy pulls the satin material of my knickers off. I'm no longer concerned with anything. I glue my mouth to his and tear at his pants, yanking them and his underwear down as my hand caresses his pulsating erection. I hold it against my stomach as I stroke it slowly. Removing my hand, he steps out of his pants, kicks off his shoes.

He's breathless.

I'm wet.

He's moaning.

I'm ready.

Lifting a leg over his thigh, I press him against—Malfoy expertly enters me in one gentle thrust.

There are so many emotions flowing through me right now that I can hardly articulate them, much less keep them under control. I'm surprised that we don't tumble to the floor in a heap of appendages and discarded clothing. I'm surprised that he's shagging me with more gentleness than the situation calls for. I'm excited that I am the sole reason why for Draco Malfoy is quivering and sighing my name with every thrust. I'm stunned that this is my life and not a _really_ fantastic dream.

Most of all, I'm really liking that he's the one making me shake and moan in return.

I bite his shoulder playfully. I like this. His thrusts are slow at first, as if he's trying to get his bearings and familiarize himself with me. But we waste no time in finding an appropriate rhythm. It's perfect. Not too fast, not too slow. Resting my back against the cool door and gripping the back of his neck gently, I watch his face closely. His eyes are shut, but that damn Malfoy smirk is present. Running my thumb over it, he opens his eyes.

Smiling, he hisses, "You're so bloody tight." He sucks my thumb into his mouth.

I gasp, feeling myself bite down on my own lip, harder than before.

"Granger, don't do that," Malfoy murmurs, "Let me." He kisses my lower lip and tugs on it gently with his teeth.

Whimpering helplessly, I sigh, "Damn, what are you _doing_ to me?"

Malfoy starts shagging me faster, more urgently, and I try to control myself. He smiles. His pecks intensify into full-blown kisses and I close my eyes for another moment. I feel his arm behind my waist, holding it and me in place_—_getting lost in the sensations.

In and out. In and out.

My mind shuts down completely and my body commandeers total control. I feel his smile when I start moving with him riding him, riding the second man I've ever been with. It feels bloody _amazing_, better than anything that I've experienced before. He knows what he's doing and I am grateful for his skills. I like everything, the feel of him_—_the feel of him in me.

Someone knocks on the door.

We freeze for an instant.

"Yes?" My voice is strangled, hoarse, and foreign.

Thank Merlin I locked my door. Malfoy smirks evilly and resumes his movements. Faster. Harder. I can't help the strangled moan that rises from the back of my throat. Holding on tightly, my face contorts, trying to keep my poise.

"Ms. Granger, the Minister…"

It's Melissa. It's important. I'm not listening. I'm too busy concentrating on Malfoy as he overwhelms me with his quickening thrusts and lips, perfect for snogging the hell out of me; exactly what he's doing now. I want to moan, I want to moan so bloody loud, and it's killing me that I can't_—_and he knows this. Evil, evil little ferret.

But there's something about knowing that we can easily get caught shagging each other senseless that skyrockets my level of excitement.

"Because everything is a little busy today, all your appointments have been cancelled for the day. They've been rescheduled for tomorrow, so you have a meeting first thing with the Minister and the head of the Auror Department…"

Malfoy speaks into my ear in that hoarse voice that drags me closer and closer to the edge, "You're so wet, you're not going to make it, are you?"

I nearly lose it.

"For lunch, we managed to schedule in two meetings at once…"

With my legs wrap tighter around his body, I meet his thrusts almost frantically. I don't care! I don't bloody care! Shut the hell up! Go away! When I finish here (if I can walk straight), I'm going to find her and hex her into a brand new year. Oh, and not to mention, fire her arse for interrupting the best shag of my life.

More mumbling from Malfoy interrupts my thoughts, "Damn, you feel so good_…_"

"It's going to be at this charming little restaurant…"

He bites down on my neck and slams into me. Hard. "Melissa!" I yell in surprise. Malfoy pauses to breathe and gather control over his body, a smirk is on his face. I better get this out while I can. "C-can we discuss this later? I'm too upset now to really think about this." It's clearly a lie, but it's the first thing I can think of that'll make her leave. I have to cover Malfoy's mouth to stop him from laughing aloud. I glare at him. Or at least I try to.

"Oh, I understand, Ms. Granger. I know you don't want to hear this but, you _should_ go home and get some rest."

"Thanks, I think I will take your advice. I'll leave in a few minutes by Floo. You_—_you take the rest of the day off, okay? Bye…" Each word is muttered against his neck, accompanied by hot breath that makes him shiver. I hear the sound of her heels as she walks away. I glare. "You almost got us caught."

He just smiles and drives in hard; my breath catches, "Do you care?"

I groan. "Not particularly."

Now where and how Malfoy managed to acquire his wand will forever remain a mystery to me. All I know is that one second he doesn't have it and the next he's muttering a Silencing and Protection charm on the room and me, freeing me to yell as loud as I need to.

Once again, I'm meeting his thrusts, just like before. He's shaking and moaning my name against my neck and no matter how hard I try to hold on, I can't stop this orgasm if I tried_—_and I certainly don't want to. I can't stand upright much longer, my legs shake hard as my moans increase in volume. Malfoy feels it. He feels me waver, feels me tighten around him, and literally picks me up. His arms are under my knees and his hands are cupping my arse. Just when I think he can't shag me any harder _— _or better_ —_ he does. My legs flop helplessly until I wrap them around his waist. I close my eyes, biting my lip, trying desperately to hold on just a little bit longer.

Fingers touch my chin, lifting my face so I'm staring into his warm, glossy gray eyes.

"That better?" His voice is thick and deep and does nothing to slow down the inevitable, "Good?"

I nod because it's all I can really do now. Good? Well—wait…good doesn't even come _close_ to describing just how fantastic and uninhibited I feel now, but I'm well past being able to form logical thoughts and going into detailed explanations. I continue to nod even though he's no longer asking questions, my eyes watering. I feel it coming.

Malfoy feels it too and begins to fuck me mercilessly, moaning uncontrollably. Its coming quick, too quick_—_my fingers have a mind of their own. They scrape down his back in an effort to_—_I don't know. I feel myself clamping hard around him. Hissing, he's groaning like crazy, repeating, "_Shit, yes,_" as he rams into me.

I rake his back again. I do it hard, then lightly, then hard again and he's grinding against me, into me. It's fierce. It's so intense that I have tears in my eyes.

Our eyes lock and I know it's going to be over soon.

He's trembling so damn hard for a second I think we're going to fall. I don't care. Six rough and frenzied thrusts later and I'm plummeting over the edge, yelling his name, shaking in his arms, gripping, and _clawing_ at him as I ride the most intense wave of my life. Two more and he's right behind me, yelling, shaking, and burying himself deep inside as he clings to me just as tight.

My heart won't stop racing. Breathing is a chore. I feel weak, wonderful, and I ache all over. I don't know how he finds the strength, but he sits us on the floor. I relax against his racing chest as he continues to twitch inside of me. His lips find mine and his kisses calm me. They're so soft and tender; like he means it.

I pull back slowly, sighing, "That was _just_ what I needed."

Snickering, he exhales and pecks me on the lips, holding me close against his heart that's beating just as out of control as mine is.

I don't know what I like more: this incessant pleasure that seizes my body, the way he looks at me with that damn smirk, or the way he holds me in his arms.

Nevertheless, I can't get enough of him, I'm crazed and insatiable_—_and I'm ready to start over. "Are you busy for the rest of the day?"

He shakes his head.

Timidly, I ask. "Then come home with me…"

Malfoy answers me with a kiss.

I think I'm starting to like Fridays.


	6. For You To Notice

Disclaimer: I don't own it. J.K. does...I'm okay with it.

Author's Note: Wow, I'm just stunned by the positive reviews on my story thus far. Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed my story thus far, please keep the reviews coming. I'm really just excited that you all like it! It takes a good month for me to write the sex scenes the way I like them (because I'm extremely picky) so it's good to know everyone likes them. I still like to post in bulk. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_(Six weeks later: June 8__th)_

These days, I find it particularly hard to schedule alone-time with Ginny without an emergency that forces one of us to cancel or reschedule. She's a wife and a new mum these days. Ginny has made a lot of sacrifices to get to the place that she is right now. She even put her own Quidditch career on hold to take care of her budding family. Sometimes I look at her with envy. She's twenty-three and perfectly content with the path that life has taken her…her destiny. I'm twenty-five and it seems as if I'm starting over again_—_well, almost.

No need to dwell on the past. I have a shot at finally having things the way that I want them.

Today is a good day, a Saturday, and we've found a few hours to meet in Muggle London for a bit of shopping and tea outside of this charming new cafe. Harry is at home bonding with James, which leaves her free time to bond with me on this uncommonly pretty June day. I peer over my sunglasses at my best friend who is sipping on herbal tea. I haven't seen her in two weeks. She looks radiant and happy, considering everything that's happened.

Obviously, the six weeks after severing my engagement with Ron have been tense, to say the least.

Ginny was _— _and still is _—_ furious at Ron for his infidelity. Embarrassed by the entire situation, Ron is still mad at me for not even trying to work it out. No thank you, I still find myself apathetic to him. I don't sodding care how he feels. Harry is neutral, although he expresses disappointment in Ron's selfish actions. My parents think that I'm hiding my pain, which I'm not. And the rest of the Weasley clan, surprisingly, remain out of the entire matter altogether: to keep the peace.

* * *

_(Two weeks ago)_

"_So, Hermione, have you started dating anyone else?"_

_I'm going to be honest. This question would have been okay if it came from Ginny or Harry or Luna or Mrs. Weasley or even a __total stranger__…but__ not__ Ron. It's as if the weight of the world is placed squarely on the shoulders of this room. And it buckles under the pressure. Everyone freezes and looks between the two of us, as if they're expecting a war to break out._

_After a month of silent Sunday dinners, he decides to pick this__ one to speak up. Wonderful._

_Truthfully, I reply "It's of __no__ concern to you."_

_Ron retorts crossly. "And __why__ isn't it?"_

_Is he __serious__? He __can't__ be serious. I look at him with wide eyes, "We __aren't__ together, Ronald so who I date or __don't__ date is __not__ your concern."_

"_You don't have to be cross__ about it, I was just making conversation."_

"_Well, as much as you like to start drama, I'm looking forward to a row-free day with you so do me a favour and __make conversation__ about the weather, your day, Quidditch, your plans for the summer__—__something__ else__. Oh, and stop trying to pick fights with me, it's rather __immature__," I rudely respond, "We're __not__ about to sit here and discuss the details of __my__ love life. It's not anyone's business, much less yours." I sharply glare across the table at the angry redhead who is close to losing his temper._

_Silence of an Egyptian tomb falls over the room, only breaking momentarily when Mrs. Weasley mutters something about checking on James and bolts, dragging an angry-looking Ginny with her. I swear, once they leave, you could have heard a pen drop._

_"Why are you getting defensive?"__ Ron's annoyance with me is no surprise. _

"_Because__ you're__ trying to pry into my life…you don't see __me__ asking about __your__ dates, you never __will__ because I don't care!"_

_Ron slams his fork down on the table, angry, "I just don't get it Hermione! I can't believe you're throwing the past out and giving up on us!"_

_Harry clears his throat, trying to break up the argument, "Guys—"_

"_Stay out of this, Harry," Ron warns gruffly._

"_Leave Harry alone! He didn't do a __thing__ to you," I scold harshly._

"_Why, Hermione?" His voice booms, "Why are you refusing to forgive me?"_

_I remain calm, despite the desire to hex this idiot into another dimension. "What don't you understand__? I. Don't. Love. You. The end! We have had this conversation already and the redundancy is getting ridiculous."_

"_Why are you so set on hurting __me? Is it because of what happened with whatever-her-name-was? Because if that's what it is, Merlin, I'm __**sorry**__. We can move on from this! I'm not perfect, but I'm trying to be more like you."_

"_First, I think it's sad that you have sex with people and you don't care enough to remember their names. Second, don't try to be like me. It's pointless. Be true to yourself because when you're not, it doesn't just hurt everyone, it hurts __**you**__."_

"_You know __nothing__ about hurting__—__you hurt me and you don't even __care__."_

"_Of course I __care__, Ron! You're one of my __best__ friends__. I stayed with you __six years __to avoid hurting you. So if you want to place the blame on me, that's fine, I can take it. But the sooner you realize that this is not totally my fault, the better." I put down my fork and excuse myself from the table._

* * *

After that tense Sunday supper at the Burrow, I decide to distance myself from them all for a while…or at least until Ron stops trying to make me feel guilty about leaving him. I'm not going back to him. I refuse to even entertain the thought.

"So, what have you been up to?" asks Ginny, smiling.

I tense. With everything that's happened, I haven't told her about that afternoon with Draco. It feels odd to not call him by his surname, but it seems ridiculous to call him _Malfoy_ after something so intimate._ Wow_, I think with an internal smirk, _I shagged Draco Malfoy__—__and my best friend doesn't know. _Shite. She's going to kill smirk falters. The more I stall, the harder it's going to be to tell her.

Ginny didn't particularly like Draco in school; none of us did, but after the war he changed and she didn't see a point in holding grudges. They became good friends_—_to the point where Draco brought gifts to the hospital the day that James was born: a couple of toys and a Gryffindor red, and a hand-woven temperature adjusting blanket. Ron laughed at the simplicity of his gifts after he left, but was forced to put his foot in his mouth two days later when we arrived at their house to find not only a finished and decorated nursery (Ginny went into labor with James two months early, leaving no time to finish the nursery), but an exquisite, beautifully hand-crafted maple rocking chair sitting against the wall, next to the matching crib.

The note on the chair said: _"To second chances and new beginnings, congratulations…D.M."_

Ginny cried for two hours_—_everyone else was stunned.

"Hello? Earth to Hermione Granger!" Waving her hand in my face, she grins when I focus on her, "Where were you?"

"Nowhere, just thinking about James_—_how is he?" If you want to distract a new mum, ask her about her baby. It's a good tactic. Trust me.

"Oh, he's wonderful_—_except for when we try to feed him baby food. He spits it everywhere. You should've seen Harry," Ginny laughs, "James waited until Harry opened his mouth to spit his food out all over him," I start laughing, picturing Harry's face covered in green baby food, "Oh, James said, _"da-da"_ yesterday to Harry and he's imitating other little words; he's so adorable. I think he's looking more and more like Harry everyday. He just turned four months two days ago. We want to have another baby. I want a girl_—_I think we're going to try soon, maybe when James turns a year old."

I gush. "That's wonderful, Ginny!"

She smiles happily, "So, what have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you in _months_."

Damn Ginny and her alertness, "Oh, nothing," I grin. "It's _only_ been two weeks, Gin."

"So? Two weeks without my best friend is equal to an eternity," she groans dramatically. "So, how's work?"

I think about Draco and flush a bit, "Good," It's hopeless, I can tell. I need to change the subject.

Eying me skeptically over her mug, she smirks. "So, are you seeing anyone new? It's been what? Six or seven _weeks_? Ron went out on a date…"

"Good for him, but as for me, not really…" I scratch my nose, avoiding her curious gaze. Tapping my feet nervously, I keep answers are short and sweet. "Too busy. Not enough time."

I can't keep secrets from Ginny because we have too much history together. She knows me inside and out, my best friend, and the first person I went to after I caught Ron cheating_—_well, her and Harry. She knows that I despise the nickname _"bookworm"_, my first kiss was with Viktor Krum in the library a month _before_ the Yule Ball, I had this inexplicable crush on Theodore Nott for two weeks during Fifth Year after seeing him in the library reading a book on Arithmancy, my favourite place in the entire castle was the Prefect's bath and _not_ the library, I can do a wicked impression of Professor Trelawney, and I love watching television.

"You're lying."

I look up, stunned. Oh shit. "What?"

"You scratched your nose! You're lying! Who is he?"

_Damn._

"I am not," I argue defencively, "there's no one..." Draco's post-sex flushed face flash in my mind, my voice wavers when a few images from that day flash in my mind. I want to tell her. I want to jump up and down and yell, _"He reads me like the markings on a Pensieve,"_ but I can't, not here, not like this, and not when I'm as confused as I am about him.

Draco and I never spoke about what happened; instead we went back to square one_—_no sex. Only now my face burns when he looks at me too long; I've learned to control it in public. I think about him everyday, all the time, and I wonder if he thinks of me. But I don't ask. I can't ask. My pride stops me.

* * *

_(A month ago)_

"_After the Hit Wizards picked him up for trying to give a Muggle kid a charmed toy, the Aurors conducted a raid of his home and came up with a few Dark artifacts."_

"_What did they find?" I'm looking at a different file that goes to Wizengamot tomorrow. _

"_Nothing serious, but I don't think they're completely finished searching the premises, he has a lot of secret rooms they're uncovering."_

"_When is his trial?"_

"_Roughly two months, but for now he's in Azkaban." Draco hands me the file and I skim over it. _

_Comfortably, he places his hand on my arm to point out something. My entire body tenses and my face flushes. He's talking, but I'm not sure what about. All I can do is concentrate on his hands and sit in confusion. _

"_Granger, are you even __**listening**__ to me?"_

_Snapping out of it, I nod, "Yes I am." _

_Why in the hell is his touch still affecting me like this? Using the excuse of needing a new quill, I escape his hand and slide my chair a bit to the left to retrieve it. _

"_Something the matter?" He looks at me with a slightly arched eyebrow, "You're tense."_

"_It's just been a long day," I lie easily, "And this Benson guy isn't making it much better. Honestly," I huff, annoyed, sitting back in my chair, "What was he thinking__ giving a child a charmed teddy bear. It really could have killed her."_

_He smirks. "Have you eaten lunch?"_

"_No, why?"_

"_You're irritable. Maybe you should take a break, and join me for lunch?"_

_I want to take him up on his offer, I really do, but I don't think I can be around him for long periods of time without wanting to jump him. So I decline. "Sorry, there's just a lot to do right now…maybe tomorrow? I'll bring Ginny." Yes, that's perfect. That way, we don't have to be alone and I don't have the urge to shag the living daylights out of him while she's there._

* * *

I can't concentrate when I know he's nearby. It's maddening when he sits in my office for no reason, when he smirks at me like he knows my deepest secrets (and he does), when his hands brush mine when we walk down the hall discussing business. We danced at a Ministry party last week and I nearly dragged him into an abandoned room and shagged him senseless.

But I didn't…

* * *

_(Three weeks ago)_

"_Wow, that's so…__fascinating__. I never knew that about dragons." I hide my disgust from the older man standing in front of me. His recently singed mustache, bald head, and oily hands that attempt to slither touch my dress robes creep me the hell out._

"_There__ you are, Granger. I was afraid that I'd lost you," Draco says, inserting his body between me and the oily mongrel from the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau. He smiles a pearly-white smile and slips an arm around my waist, naturally. Merlin help me if I __don't__ melt; if I __don't__ feel the electricity between us. _

_It feels right for him to claim me as his._

_I stand on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek, partly for effect__—__partly because I want to. His skin is warm and when I pull away I detect a small blush on his face...one that he covers quickly. It must be wonderful to have such a large amount of self-control. Draco pulls me against his side. Merlin, he smells **heavenly**, the faint scent of cologne and aftershave nearly make me woozy._

_"Yes," I gather my bearings, "I was on my way to find you when this pleasant man started a fascinating conversation with me." My sarcasm isn't lost on him._

_After a glance, a smirk, and an affectionate squeeze, Draco shakes the man's oily hands, "Did she bother you? The little witch here has a tendency to talk to strangers and bore them to death with pictures of the elephant trunk growing out of her a—well, I'm __**sure**__ you can imagine that one. They haven't gotten it to fully go away, did they?"_

_Wrapping my arm around his waist, I pinch him as hard as I can. I want to kick his arse for making me sound like a freak. _

_Malfoy's reaction: "Ouch, love__—__not __now__, I'll play with your trunk later…but __only__ if you're a good girl." _

_The man almost turns green. _

_Draco Malfoy is so dead. I'm going to Avada his arse as soon as I can grab my wand. _

_Grey eyes drift from him, then to me, and back to him...he smiles politely, "Thanks sir, for looking after her."_

_Looking a bit put off, the man starts to back away slowly, "Yes…it was no problem, not at all…it's, uh, __nice__ to meet you Miss. Granger…good luck with the trunk…" he makes a clean exit and I wave to him as he goes._

"_My__ hero__," I glare at Draco, punching him in the arm as hard as I can. He winces, but I'm sure it's fake, he's still smirking as I rage on, "__An elephant trunk in the arse__? Think you could've thought of something better than an elephant trunk? Spattergroit__ works or even __dragon pox__, but you__ had__ to make me sound creepy."_

_"__Well, technically, I never said you had the elephant trunk in your arse...you just implied__—__"_

_I start to whip out my wand, ready to hex him for all he's worth, but he grabs my hand before I can reach into my dress robes._

_Darkly, he speaks, his face only inches from my own, "And just what do you think you're doing?"_

_I may look calm, but my heart is racing at his proximity to me. It takes a moment, but I do speak up. "Well, I'll tell you. If and when you let my arm go, I'm going to reach into my robe, grab my wand, and__—__would you like to be turned into a ferret again or a rat because__—__"_

_He's not even paying attention__ to me, he's actually looking over my head__—__his face pales a little, "Pansy Parkinson is walking this way right now and if you don't dance with me, I'll be forced to announce your "condition"__ to the entire-"_

_"You wouldn't dare."_

_That damn smirk appears on his face, "Would you care to test that theory out?"_

_Damn, he got me, "You're lucky that I **want** to dance..." I make an excuse, a weak one at that.  
_

_I see Pansy from the corner of my eye and I allow Draco to take my hand and lead me onto the floor. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Granger." _

* * *

We danced all night together, even after Pansy stormed off…and when we weren't together, he stayed nearby.

Still, I'm confused. Despite wanting to hex, curse, and Avada his arse all the time, I know what I feel for him, but what does he feel about _me_? Was that day just about lust? He never said anything. He's completely relaxed around me, while I'm on edge constantly. Maybe he doesn't feel a thing for me, and that's why he can touch me without thinking twice…

"Oh, Merlin, yes, you are…you're thinking about him right _now_. Your eyes are distant."

"Ginny…" My voice breaks.

"C'mon, are you telling me you haven't been on one—"

I crack. "I shagged Draco Malfoy!" I reveal_—_well, almost yell. I clamp my hands over my mouth, mortified. Definitely_ not_ how I planned to tell Ginny about my affair. It was supposed to be divulged calmly, in a matter-of-fact way of speaking. Clearly it didn't work out that way. A few Muggles turn their heads at my outburst, making sour faces at me. I blush more, mouthing, "Sorry".

Ginny nearly chokes on her tea, "Bloody hell, when did this happen?"

"The day after I dumped Ron…in my office…against my door…the first time."

I half-expect Ginny to sprint over to Ron's side and lecture me about how I'm stupid for sleeping with Draco a week after breaking up with her brother; how I'm just as bad as he is, how it isn't exactly smart to throw myself into a sexual relationship so soon; oh, and how I should have taken time to get used to being unattached.

What I don't expect her to say is: "Your office door? Wow, Hermione, you _minx_!" She giggles teasingly. A relieved smile breaks across my face. "I never thought you had it in you! Must've been hot. Was he good?" Ginny asks, a small, wicked smirk splashing across her face.

Nodding bashfully, I take another swig of my coffee.

"Details please…and don't you dare spare me."

Blushing, I start talking slowly. Quickly the dam breaks, and information rushes from my mouth like a raging river. I can't stop, "Ginny, he was phenomenal. I felt free. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven…I was like putty in his hands…he did what he wanted and I let him. We almost got caught by Melissa…"

I tell her about the rest of the day. I remember it like it was yesterday, how can I forget the best day of my life? And it was on a bloody _Friday_. It involves a nice lunch, sex on my kitchen table, a talking break, sex in my bed, a nap, more sex in the shower, dinner, even more sex in my living room, and a long kiss goodnight before I Apparated to their house to see baby James and give Ginny a bag full of Ron's things to return to him.

_Ron who?_

All the fantastic shagging left Ron a scarce memory; an irritant that I don't particularly enjoy discussing. The more details I spill, the redder Ginny's face becomes, and by the time I finish, she's fanning herself. She grins dreamily, "The rumours were true; he was a sex-god."

I laugh, taking another sip of my coffee. "_Is_…not was…_is_."

We dissolve in giggles.

Ginny rests her elbows on the table, eager to fish more information out of me, "So, have you shagged him since?"

"No."

Looking at me like I've sprouted nine arms, she gasps, "Why not? You must have some _serious_ restraint."

I chuckle. "Well, it's hard, believe me. I think about jumping him every time I see him."

"Then why don't you?"

"It's confusing."

"How so?"

I shrug. "We didn't exactly define things…" Trailing off, I look around, then down at the table.

"Well, why not?"

Leaning back in my seat, I fold my arms, releasing my pent up frustrations. "It's hard to explain, Gin. The whole thing is as confusing as it is fantastic. We were drinking for crying out loud! Maybe he realized the next day that he was a barmy idiot for shagging that _"Mudblood"_. Maybe he's not talking to me about it because he doesn't want to…and I don't think I could take that…"

Ginny snorts. "There are so many things wrong with your thought process. First, Malfoy hasn't called you that ghastly name in years, and he regrets calling you that. Second, he likes you, told me so himself about three years ago, but you were engaged to Ron by the time he realized it, so he backed to back off. Third, you should at least talk to him about it because chances are he freaked out as much as you did…"

"Malfoys don't lose control and _"freak out"_, told me that himself."

She rolls her eyes, "There are a lot of things that Malfoys don't do that he's done. Working under you, being nice to you, _shagging_ you. For Merlin's sake, he inherited everything from his parents, yet he lives in Muggle London, drives a car, jogs on his lunch break, and checks his own mail_—_so put that card back and use it another time. He likes you. I doubt his feelings have changed…"

I just sit there, mind reeling from all this new information.

_Malfoy…likes…me?_

"Do you like him?"

Well, that's the million galleon question I didn't realize the answer to until yesterday when I accepted his offer to go to lunch...finally. He's funny, calm, observant, loves to read, intelligent, bold, we have a lot of history together (not all of it good), and—well, of _course_ I like Draco…sometimes so much that I can't stand the sight of him because there's nothing I can do about it.

I can list all the reasons why I shouldn't like him the way I do, but when it comes down to it…I do. I just do. I could pretend that day meant nothing, that he's just another man and a good shag that I needed, but when it comes down to it… I can't…I just can't Because I do like Draco. He means a lot to me.

Ginny watches my face for a moment before a smile breaks out across her face, "Want his address?"


	7. I'm Asking You To Stay

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. J.K. Rowling does.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_(Six days later: June 14__th)_

"Are you there yet?" Ginny voice rings out over my cell phone the next Friday night as I turn down his street.

Stupidly, I didn't go the day she gave me the address. Instead, I accept the truth that I love being tortured in the worst possible way and thus subject myself to another tense work week filled with covert stares and very strange behavior on my part. For example: giggling, hand-watching, blushing, and one attempt at flirting Monday that ended in catastrophe and a strange look from Draco.

I avoided him the rest of the day.

* * *

_(Last Tuesday)_

_A deep, rich laugh fills my ears as I step through the threshold of my office, ready to leave for lunch. _

_Curiously, I peek over and spot Draco chatting it up with a pretty dark-haired witch from another department, I forget which one, but blind jealously and possessiveness races through my blood as I glare a nice hole into the back of—oh this is just silly. He's not __mine__. I have no claims to him__—__and none of this inner-talk is making me feel any better. I whip out my wand and consider which spell will make me feel better. I'm between a hair-thickening charm to make her resemble Big Foot and Jelly-Brain jinx when I realize, once again, that I'm being ridiculous…and a bit scary. _

_Aggravated at myself, I shut my office door and decide to casually pass them by, my head held high. If he can act like nothing happened, then I can, too. _

_I've almost made a clean break past them when I hear, "Granger, __there__ you are."_

_Stopping right next to them, I paste a cool and pleasant look on my face and greet them casually with a proud tone to my voice. "Yes, here I am, __Malfoy__. Is there something you wanted?"_

_Raising an eyebrow, he continues after a quick pause, "Rachel and__—__" Oh, so __that's__ her name. She really doesn't look like a Rachel…more like her name should be __Tomato__ with her splotchy red face, all red from blushing and laughing__—__okay, now I'm being a common catty female and I need to stop this __right now._ "_—__so will you?"_

_Confused, I look at Draco who's regarding me with…dare I say it...__hopeful__ grey eyes._

"_Will I what?"_

_Rolling his eyes, "You know, I wonder where your mind wanders off to sometimes, Granger," his face goes from partly annoyed to smiling, just like __magic__, "Rachel and her husband invited me out to lunch today and well, I was wondering if I could pull your head from the clouds long enough to get you to accompany me?" _

_As tacky as it sounds, my stomach reels when he smiles. _

_It's happening more and more these days, especially since I've come to terms with my feelings for him. Now if only I can tell him…Oh, I mentally apologized to Rachel for all the nasty and caddy things I said about her, "W—"_

"_Going to question my motives __again__, are you?" There's a small twinkle in his eye and I know what he's referring to.__  
_

_I smile and will my face not to crimson, and for the first time, I succeed. "__Actually__, I was going to ask where we were going? Because Ginny was raving about this great little restaurant that just opened a few weeks ago and I wanted to check them out."_

"_Oh, that will be __wonderful__. Let me go get Chris and we'll be outside." Rachel hurries off, leaving Draco and I alone. _

_We walk down the bustling corridor in complete silence. When it becomes too crowded, he instinctively takes my hand so we don't get separated. A very small part of me wants to yank my hand away and storm off, swearing to all that is holy, but the larger part of me beats the living daylights out of that small part and enjoys the feel of our entwined hand. Draco doesn't let go, not after we get past the crowds, not after we get outside, not even after we run into Lavender Brown. She's the wife of an Auror that Draco used to work with. He speaks to her casually while she stares at our entwined hands with wide eyes. To him it seems as if holding my hand is the most natural thing on Earth._

_When Lavender walks off, still confused, I look around for Rachel and Chris, but don't see them. It's only after a moment of silence that he speaks, "Didn't think you'd accept, Granger," in a voice only I can hear. _

_I look at him, only to find grey eyes staring back at me. He's giving me that tunnel-vision look again…like I'm the only person he sees. My body warms and the blush becomes evident. I kick myself internally for acting like a crazy, rabid twelve-year-old again and rapidly regain control of myself. Smirking, I squeeze his hand and make no effort to let go. "Well," my lips curl into a smile, "I suppose this__ means you don't know me that well __after all__."_

* * *

Draco has invited me to lunch (and sometimes dinner) everyday since that afternoon_—_and not _once_ have I declined.

I've postponed dinner with my parents to go to a Muggle movie with him that night. The next night, I cancelled dinner with Harry and Ginny to go to an art exhibit. I moved a staff meeting back an entire week to go wine-tasting Thursday. And I just ended a meeting early with the Minister to have an after-work dessert with him this evening.

The more I spend time with him, the more I enjoy his company.

Sometimes I feel like asking him what this all means, but I don't want to ruin our_—_whatever this is. I'm just perplexed.

See, his actions tell me that we're just going out as friends, but then he completely changes.

Tuesday, he wraps his arm around me in the movie. Wednesday, he purchases a stunning Matisse painting at the gallery for me after I rave for ten minutes about dazzling the colors are. I'm sure the painting cost him more than our combined salaries for the next two years. Thursday, he rests his hand on my lower back each time a new man flirts me at the wine-tasting. He doesn't kiss me when he drops me off, but he comes so close. He pauses during his descent, mutters something that resembles goodnight, and leaves me holding my breath on the front step of my house. I wanted to _cry_ in frustration. Today, he insists on feeding me every bite of chocolate chip bread pudding we shared this afternoon after the waitress forgets to bring an extra spoon. It was the most erotic thing, I swear.

Do you understand why I'm so confused? Do you understand why I sat in my room for a full hour once I got home today, reviewing every word, every touch, every subtle compliment, every_—__thing_? He's driving me absolutely mad. Yes, I know I'm already quite mad already, but this is ridiculous. I over-analyze everything, but not once have I ever analyzed the meaning of the many looks of Draco Malfoy.

So I decide to clear my mind and sit down with my new copy of Witch weekly_—_and there he is! The winner of their Best Smile contest, again. Why am I being tortured? Am I _not_ a good enough person? I've fought Death Eaters, criminals, and the entire wizarding world to advocate the rights of house elves. So why in the name of Merlin am I being tortured? He's everywhere! That Malfoy smirk _—_ the one I swiped my finger over constantly that day_ —_ shines from the picture that I glance at from time to time.

**Draco Malfoy, aged twenty-four , was a certified Slytherin prince in his years at Hogwarts. He may still dress, look, and even act the part, but the Draco Malfoy we write about today is a completely different man; a cooler, down-to-Earth, more private and tamed version of his younger self. From his blond hair that is styled in the new, "I-just-rolled-out-of-bed" look, steel grey eyes, and athletic build, Draco Malfoy is all man; right down to his swagger, captivating smile (already a six-time winner), and just something about his manner that screams _man_. **

**Don't be fooled ladies. If you think he's gorgeous in this picture, then you're going to be blown away if you see him in person. However, looks aren't the only reason he's one of the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor. He's a catch and a philanthropist. He donates to the Remus Lupin Foundation to help fund the research for the cure to Lycanthropy and various other reputable charities, works as Secondary to Hermione Granger in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and is rumored to be single**_—_**some sources say...**

I finally snap, unable to take it—well anything, anymore. I know what kind of man he is. I _know_ that he's sexy and I _know_ that he's a good person. And I don't want to read about how great he is in Witch Weekly. I throw the paper on the ground, _Accio_ my keys, and storm out my house in a blind hurry. I have to go because I can't take one more day of mixed signals. I have to do this and see him tonight. I have to see.

So here I am.

Driving to Draco's_—_and trying to convince myself I don't need mental help.

"Hermione! Are you there yet?" Ginny asks again.

Looking closely at the addresses, I mutter. "Almost. 2363 Winchester Lane. Gin, what if he doesn't like me anymore?" Well, that sounded a bit needy.

"Then you'll find someone else. Although, I don't know why I'm entertaining your foolish thoughts."

Ignoring her, I ask. "But what if I can't find someone else?" _2337…2339…2341…_

"Then buy more cats_—_Crookshanks may need more company…"

I frown. "You're loads of help, Ginny_—_loads."

She snickers, "Seriously, it'll be—"

"Gin, I'm scared," I admit softly, still looking for his house._ 2343…2345…2347…_

"I know. I know that this is a little different for you—"

She's right. Merlin, she's so right. This isn't my style. I don't make the first move often and I've never gone after a man in my life. The thought of knocking on his door makes me want to pull over and vomit in some bushes, but I don't. I can't. Not here anyway. People are still outside and I'm sure someone will see me. I don't need that. I remove a few horrifying thoughts from my mind and sigh, "I like him. I don't know where it came from, but I do." There, I admit it aloud. _2349…2351…2353…_

"He likes you, too."

I'm getting closer to his house. I pop my knuckle against the steering wheel, nervously. You'd think after being his partner for three years that I would've been to his house a couple of times, but sadly no. "How do you know he didn't shag me because I looked like I needed a good shagging?" _2355…2357…_

"Hermione!"

"What? I'm being serious!" _2359…2361…_

"It's hardly like Malfoy to do anyone any favours."

"But I'm his boss!" My eyes about pop out of their sockets. "Oh Merlin! I _am_ his boss! I shagged my employee! He can take me to Wizengamot for sexual harassment! I'm going to Azkaban!"

Ginny starts laughing, "The Minister is his employer. He just works under you."

"The definition of a sexual harasser! I'm going to Azkaban! This isn't funny Ginny! Stop laughing! Now I'm single, barmy, a bloody sexual offender, and now I'm going to prison! A great end to a wonderful week! I hate Fridays!" _2363…_

"Hermione Granger! Calm down! Breathe!"

This is it, I'm freaking out_—_for good reason. "I can't! I'm here_. _I can't _do _this_. _I'm going home!"

Ginny takes a tone that I've never heard before. "If you don't pull into that driveway, get out, and talk to him, I will Apparate there and kick your batty arse right now! Now, I'm going to hang up. Call me tomorrow_—_or whenever you and Malfoy decide to come up from shagging each other to death. And I'm sending Ron to your house to pick up the last of his things so you can't go home_—_not for the next four hours."

She did what? "Ginevra Potter! Wait until I see you, I'll_—_"

"Hug me?" She interrupts, rather cheerily.

"I was thinking along the lines of a good c—"

"Cheerful smile? Well, if that's the case, I'm sure that we can arrange that. Bye!"

I try calling back thirteen times to _beg_ her not to send Ron to my house, under any circumstances. My attempts are with no avail. So I decide to face my fate and pull into his driveway. I look up at the house, then down at the address. Maybe I have the wrong house. It's not the kind of place that I picture Draco Malfoy living. This is nothing like the Malfoy Manor that he tore down after his mother's death four years ago; this house is simple, dark brick and cream stucco two-story house in a decent Muggle neighbourhood that is about twenty minutes outside of London_—_and twenty-five minutes from my house.

Is he home? The upstairs light tells me so, and that's enough to force me out of the car. Okay, that and dire need to avoid Ron for the next four hours.

As I amble up the dimly lit walkway, I look around. Nicely cut grass, perfectly trimmed hedges, and no flowers. I smile in amusement. Figures that his house would be as neat as his office. Dogs bark in the distance and some kids are running into the house next door, yelling for their mum. The noise soothes my nerves, but does nothing for those mutant bats flying around in my stomach. I take a deep breath when I get to the door.

Where is my damn Gryffindor courage? I need to stop being weak. What is the worst that could happen? He could slam the door in my face, he could curse me, or he could_—_I feel myself start to panic. No more thinking about that. I ring the doorbell to stop myself from running. Merlin, I hope he's in the mood to deal with me for the next four hours and not on some…_date_.

Hold the presses! Oh no! I didn't even consider the thought of Draco having a girlfriend. Witch Weekly doesn't know everything. They just posted a _"heart-warming"_ piece about Ron and his quest for redemption. Yes, exactly what _I _was thinking. They don't know everything.

I'm so dim sometimes. This is moronic! I shouldn't have come! I should have stayed at home with Crookshanks, because this crush business is way too complex for my liking. This crush has turned me into a raving, mad, brainless idiot and I'm leaving. Ginny is just going to have to kick my arse and I'm just going to have to go somewhere for four hours, because I'm just going to go and cut my losses.

The door opens slowly, revealing a dripping wet, freshly showered (not to mention, bloody _sexy_) Draco in a dark blue terrycloth bathrobe. He's towel drying his blond hair. I'm speechless. Forget a girlfriend, I want to jump him the instant I lay eyes on him, but I refrain—though just barely.

His eyebrow rises slowly when he sees me. "Granger?"

I work with him everyday, but I never sit and listen to his voice or the way he speaks. There's always so much to do, business to complete, work to do, meetings, functions, and Wizengamot trials. It leaves virtually no time to pay attention to something as natural as his voice. When I snap from my reverie, he's staring at me curiously. It's as if his eyes are burning right through me.

"Sorry, I-I," For the first time in my life I don't have a plan, "Fine evening we're having, yes?" I'm barmy, really. Talking about the weather when in doubt does not work in every situation. I want to crawl in a hole and die.

"Yes, we are. Although I don't think you drove here to tell me that."

I grumble stubbornly, primly squaring my shoulders. "You don't know that."

His smile teases me, "And here I was thinking that _I'm_ supposed to be the sullen and moody one. It's good to see that some stereotypes aren't always true."

This is a disaster. He's teasing me! I have to get out of here right now. "Well, I'm just going to—"

"Would you like to come in?" Draco invites me with a gesture.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude on you—and whomever."

He smiles coyly, throwing the towel over his shoulder. His hair sticks up all over his head. "Witch Weekly doesn't know what they're talking about. I don't have a girlfriend. I'm not even occasionally dating anyone other than you, if that's what you want to know."

"Sorry—_what?_"

Rolling his eyes, he smirks. It's actually one of those annoying, _"You're ridiculous"_ smirks."And this is who they say is the brightest witch of our time? Hardly."

I glare at him. "I'm still standing here."

He's still smirking, "You know you can come in, right?"

Lowering my eyes to the green doormat, I shrug, "I didn't know that you wanted me to."

I hear the door creak as it opens wider. "I _want_ you to come in, Granger." Of course, that damn smirk is on his face when I look up.

Stepping into the threshold of his home, I look around at the perfect decorating as he shuts the door. Breaking me from my trance, I feel him behind me, standing there, eyes coursing up and down my body. It's bizarre and overwhelming, but I actually feel Draco's hands before they touch me, before they gently caress my shoulders. I can't think straight as is; now he has to go and touch me…to pull my jacket off my shoulders and hang it on the coat rack. Does he even know what his simple touches _do_ to me? He's a Malfoy, of _course_ he knows that I'm quickly coming apart at the seams, and all I can do is stand here and sigh.

"You're always so tense, Granger," his voice is low, "Would you like a drink?"

Bringing me around to face him, I find myself encircled in Draco's arms. I close my eyes a moment to smell him. He is a mixture between soap, faint cologne, aftershave and something inexplicably…_Malfoy_. When he rests his hands on my hips, my skin burns at his touch. A small smirk spreads across my face. "Trying to get me drunk and have your way with me again, are you, Malfoy?"

I don't realize his proximity until his lips hover over mine for a full minute before they detour to my ear. Gasping when he nips my earlobe gently, I feel his smile as he moves his hand to my back. "I don't _need_ alcohol to have my way with you."

"My, my, aren't you egotistical tonight?" Playfully slapping him on the chest, I hide the fact that I know he's right.

"Granger, now you should know I'm egotistical every night."

Smirking, I relax in his arms. "True."

His fingers play with a ringlet of my barely tamed hair thoughtfully. "I like your hair like this."

Mentally, I note that. "I never pegged you as someone who beats around the bush."

"Well, I never thought you'd be standing in my foyer, but I guess that we can both be wrong."

He tucks my hair behind my ear as best as he can, strokes my cheek tenderly with his thumb, and kisses my forehead softly like I'm breakable. And it's a good thing that he's treating me so delicately because I _am_ breakable. One right move and I'll be putty once again. Closing my eyes briefly, I enjoy the electricity that flows between us, it's intense.

When I open my eyes, he's looking into mine. I can't stop the shiver if I tried. "_Yes_." I like the way he looks at me, like I'm the only person who exists.

"So, what brings you here tonight?"

I have to grab on to him to stay on my feet. "Oh," I reply casually, though my heart is racing. "I was just in the neighbourhood. Would you like me to leave?"

He doesn't hesitate. "No_, _stay." The look in his eyes gives away his true feelings. Raw desire builds between us and I'm more than understanding of his feelings. The more time I stand here, the more I realize just how good we are together; just how good we've always been together. His hands travel up and down my back, rubbing me gently. I feel like I'm suffocating. This feeling is insane, completely ridiculous. I feel silly, but I can't help it. He drives me mad…and I'm starting to really get sick of denying myself. I want this man. I want him. And as much as my brain tells me to run out the door and down the street, screaming like a banshee; my body, more specifically, my heart, tells me to stay right here in his arms and never leave because being with him makes sense. We make sense, together. So for the first time in my life, I don't listen to my brain and pull him close to me.

"Granger, what—"

I push up on the tips of my toes and my lips capture his, cutting him off before I lose my cool.

His lips are firm, yet gentle and pliant, and taste faintly of Butterbeer. They feel like heaven against mine. Draco responds instantly, cupping my face warmly, kissing me with soft, yet tender and passionate lips.

Leisurely, his hands slide from my cheeks to the back of my head, holding me as the kiss deepens. Currents of heat churn through me and I grip his arms...

I will my feet not to weaken, but they do anyway.


	8. What Am I To You?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: Warning! Smut ahead. You have been warned!_  
_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_(Five minutes later)_

Murmuring, I detach his hands from my waist, "No, let me." In his living room, I approach Draco Malfoy using the same technique and principles that I use to prepare for a cumulative examination: I remain meticulous, patient, and practical. In many ways, Draco is like a test; the hardest one that I've ever taken, and one I want to pass. He's not a man of frivolous words and thus rarely says what he truly means, but if you read between the lines, if you look deeper there's a lot more to him to discover.

He is sensitive, though he does everything in the world to hide it.

He is observant, though he may appear to have his head constantly up his arse.

He is vulnerable, despite the massive citadel he constructs around himself; a citadel that I hope he allows me into when the time is right.

When I undo the knot of his bathrobe, my fingers and lips set out to remember his sensitive places and draw a map of his body. I feel the gates of his fortress creak open just a little bit when he meets my gaze. Though he'll never admit it, but he's as much of a control freak as I am. The nervous twitch of his lip tells me everything that I need to know. He may preach about how _I_ need to let go every now and then, but Draco has _never_ surrendered control of himself to anyone.

It feels marvelous to know that I'm the first.

He's as compliant as a Malfoy can ever truly be, moaning very quietly. He's very tense yet he permits me the privilege to use two of my five senses to touch and taste, doing as I please. I take it and run. My finger flicks delicately over his taut nipple. He gasps, and a small smirk spreads across my face.

He's mine.

Grinning, I drop a single feathery kiss right over his heart. My arms glide under the bathrobe, resting on his mid-back. Languidly, my nails drag down his back, drawing a low hiss from his lips. In my arms, right now, Draco feels simply "Perfect," I sigh before attaching my lips to his nipple, sucking, nipping, and teasing the sensitive bud ever so gently. His hands rake through my hair, as a soft, subdued moan fills my ears just after I switch nipples. He moans again, just as soft when I flick and tweak one nipple with my fingers as I suck the other one.

Back and forth, I switch between nipples, teasing and tweaking, nibbling and sucking. His breath comes, but in very shallow rasps, groans become more ragged and his body quivers. He's so horny. I feel the evidence, poking, begging to have my attention. Glancing up, I find his heavy-lidded, glossy eyes staring back. _Bingo._ Draco licks his lips and I swear the sight alone makes those mutant bats take flight in my stomach. My voice sounds exotic to me, husky and low, "Would you like me to stop?"

All he can do is shake his head; it's enough for me to continue. Despite the dimness of the room, it's obvious he's enjoying my lazy examination. I appreciate just how exposed he is in front of me by, how much he's sacrificing by just being before me. And I'm always one to show my appreciation.

So I take my time to appreciate the little things I've never taken the time to appreciate: his earlobes, the corners of his lips, the pulsating vein on his neck, shoulder blades, his unmarred left forearm, collarbones, abs, and every inch of porcelain skin on his back right down to his slightly protruding hipbones. And I watch him slowly lose control over himself.

He's gone through a series of transformations: stoic to smirking to moaning to trying to steal kisses (to no avail) to whimpering to growling to…right where he is right now. The sight of Draco Malfoy with his head thrown back, moaning, flushed, horny, and—_raw_ makes my excitement rival his own. It reinforces my actions, gives me all the support that I need to continue on my journey. His skin is warm and is coated with a light layer of sweat. I do a sweeping inspection, to make sure I've left no part of him is untouched.

There's not.

My lips briefly to hover over his, teasingly. "There's more where that came from, D—"

Draco's kiss is feverish, passionate, urgent, and breathtaking. He buries his fists in my hair, holding me there as if I'm going to leave him here, like this. He's shaking, only just—his tongue invades my mouth and halts all intellectual thoughts. He kisses me like he means it, holds me like he'll never let me go again, and sighs in my mouth contently. Eventually, Draco's kiss becomes less demanding and slowly, he starts to pull away. He cups my cheeks, caressing them with his thumb as he stares at me as if he's looking at me for the first time.

And I'm speechless and I do what I do best in these situations: I go with what I know and kiss down the curve of his chin and down his Adam's apple.

Sighing internally, there are so many places on his body for me to touch, feel, and experience—there's no need to rush.

Draco isn't rushing now. He seems content with me doing this and I, in turn, am content with him, so I slowly push the bathrobe off his shoulders and he's naked in front of me.

I smile.

He should be shivering from the chilliness of the room, but instead, he's shivering from the movement of my hands.

"You're such a tease," he mumbles, "Not playing fair at all."

I smile. "What ever happened to patience?"

"I have none."

"And here I am thinking you like what I'm doing," I think about moving away briefly.

He stops me before I can act out my thoughts. "I do, but I want you. You don't have to tease me."

"But I like to," Smiling coyly as my hand wraps around his erection, stroking gracefully. I watch his entire body tense and his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, "Is _this_ where you want me?" I swirl my thumb around the head just a few times. He gasps. "Is _this_ where you want my mouth next?"

He's groaning almost painfully. "_Yes_."

Tentatively, I drop to my knees in front of him, stroking the length of him with my hand as my free hand rubs his inner-thighs tenderly. His legs are unsteady, trembling—and it's not just his legs either. I lick the head slowly and Draco gasps. His teeth clench together as his hands fist my hair firmly. "Yes."

I let him regain composure momentarily—just a moment of rest before my mouth surrounds him almost completely; unhinging him, making him release a choked moan. I suck earnestly. His entire body quivers with every bobble of my head, hips arching as he strains against me. He's moaning my name, louder and louder, and I wonder exactly how I went over six weeks without this. I look up at him, wondering how I went over six weeks without _that_, too. Absurd, really. How do you miss a one day stand? Because that's what it was, enjoyable and exactly what I needed, but I'm caught up now. I know I am.

I feel more than just blinding lust for him. It's more complex.

Draco moans my name again, urging me to go faster, and when I listen, I'm no longer concerned about anything else. I have a pattern to this because there's always a way to do things, and I'm attuned what he likes. I pull back slowly with my mouth tight, swirl my tongue around the tip, lick slowly with pressure, draw him fully in my mouth again until he can't go in any further, four quick bobs of my head before I repeat. It's working like a charm; he's cursing, panting, calling my name, bucking his hips like crazy, fisting my hair, and panting like he's running a marathon.

He's been a good sport about not having control, so I decide to reward him.

Breaking the rhythm, I look up at him and relinquish control for a full minute. I place his hands on the back of my head and Draco is an intelligent man. With his fists buried in my hair, he keeps me in as deep as he can without choking me and thrusts into my mouth, faster. I softly hum around him and the vibrations nearly make Draco break as this foreign, strangled moan escape his lips. "Hermione!" His entire body goes rigid.

I know that he's not going to make it longer so I make him stop and replace lips with a hand, to hold him off a bit longer.

"Don't stop," He says urgently and hoarsely, his hand covering mine.

I don't. How can I? I do, however, move his hand, take him back into my mouth, guide his thrusts until we find appropriate speed we're both happy with. And yes, we're both happy.

I'm humming.

He's moaning.

I'm gripping his thighs.

His fists are clutching my hair for dear life.

I purposely tighten my mouth around him. This sharp and strangled yell sprouts forth from the back of his throat makes me grin to myself. Instant positive reinforcement. Each synchronized move drags him closer and closer to the edge. He's totally wild and uninhibited now: stiff, rough, yelling my name, shaking, gripping my hair tighter. If he rips it out, I won't mind. Seeing him with no inhibition is worth it. I keep my hands on his hips to control his frenzied thrusts, swirling my tongue, but it's no use. He's a man possessed and I love to see him completely out of sorts and unconstrained, looking wild. I love that I'm doing this to him.

"_I_—"

Oh, I know...he doesn't have to tell me he's rushing to his orgasm, I feel it and I'm ready for it. He tries to pull away, it's only instinct, but I hold him, gripping his shaking hips tight, sucking as vigorous and rapid as I can. No, he's not going anywhere. He lets out a guttural yell. "_Hermione! I'm—_" The tension breaks and his violently intense orgasm hits full force.

* * *

_(Ten minutes later) _

He's smirking, again.

Somehow, in the midst of his orgasm, we end up on couch. I guess it was when Draco could no longer stand on his own. I don't know. I don't particularly care because we're cuddled up on his couch, naked body against my clothed. His head rests on my stomach and I'm playing with his short blond hair, pensively. I don't have to look, I feel his smirk on me, it's a satisfied one, and I know I've done a good job.

Oddly, I feel proud of myself for making this a good experience for him.

I'm so affected by this, by him, that nothing even matters anymore. I know what everyone is going to say: _Girls like you don't go for men like Draco Malfoy, what are you thinking?_ For the first time, I'm not. I'm just going with what feels right and this feels right. It just does.

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

Running my fingers through his hair, I reply with a smirk of my own, "I'll never tell..."

Yes, he can be an arrogant prat. Yes, he's a lot of things. And no, he's not perfect. He's a Malfoy. He can't change his background, blood, childhood, life, or his name. All that he can do is make the most of the chances that he's been given. If he's willing, then I'm willing to take a chance.

Adjusting, Draco looks up at me. "Where did you go?" I hear him, but my mind is still swimming. He says my name slowly. "Hermione?" It's the first time he's said it outside of sex.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

I rub my fingers over his lips, "I-I'm just thinking."

"That's never a good thing."

"No, it isn't."

"Well, what were you thinking about?"

"What I am to you."

Draco captures my lips in a swift kiss. It's odd, but nice to see him so affectionate with me. It's a well-known fact that he wasn't raised in a particularly affectionate home.

"To be honest, I transferred to Magical Law Enforcement to be close to you," he finally replies after minutes of caressing my face and nestling against me. My eyes widen in shock. "I _know_ that you were with Weasley, but I was just waiting for him to muck it up. I knew that he would at some point. So when you set your wedding date, I was hoping that he would do it before. When Ginny wrote me and told me what happened, I knew I had to be there and," His face becomes serious, "I should have said it before…"

"Said what?" I rub his hair affectionately.

He gives me another smoldering kiss that makes my toes curl. "This, you and me, isn't about the sex, not to me."

"Me either," I mumble against his lips. He smiles and sweeps me up in another kiss. Groaning into his mouth, I wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss.

Momentarily, he pulls back and stares at me with clear gray eyes. "So," his voice is soft, his breath is a little winded, "What do _I_ mean to you?"

I brush his hair from his face, "More than I ever anticipated."

"That's what I like to hear." He smiles slowly and sits up and brushes my messy hair behind my ear.

Curiously, I ask, "Why didn't you say anything after that Friday?"

"I knew that if I kept coming to you that we'd just be friends with benefits, and contrary to the sex-god rumors at school, that's not my style. I know what I want, that doesn't change, but I knew it was going to take you a while to stop questioning my motives. I decided to wait until you came to me."

"But—"

"I'm a very patient man."

Well, this is a lot to sort through and interpret. Ginny being the one to tell him about Ron (she could have let me in on _that_ tidbit), why he became my partner in the first place, and his actual feeling for me. Everything is slowly processing. "What if I never came?"

"I was going to give you another two weeks before I threw you against another office door."

Chuckling, I shake my head, "And you claim to be patient."

Draco smiles. "I waited almost two months. If that's not-"

I crack up with laughter, shaking my head, incredulously, "I just keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this is going to be a dream…you want me?"

"I wouldn't let you touch me if I didn't," he replies candidly, running his hand up my thigh. "I wouldn't touch you if I didn't. I wouldn't have asked you out almost everyday this week if I didn't want to be near you. I want you, Granger." Draco hisses as he stands up. "I've wanted you for years," he pulls me to my feet alongside him, dips his head to drop a quick kiss on my lips before he mumbles, "Let me show you just how much."

* * *

_(Five minutes later)_

With our lips fused together and tongues battling for control, we sink into his bed.

My shirt is thrown across the room, pants are dropped in a heap beside the bed; bra and knickers remain on just a tad longer before they too are discarded, their final destination is currently unknown. He rests his body fully against mine and I realize again just how much I like being under him. We snog senselessly, panting and caressing one another each time we pull back to catch our breath. Finally, he pulls away and digs in his dresser drawer for his wand.

I can't help it. Honest. What he does to me is maddening. Just one causal glance in my direction and I'm on fire. I can't keep my hands off him. Every time I bloody _look_ at him I want to touch him, every time I touch him I want to shag him madly. It's an endless circle; he's an addiction and I'm not looking for a reason or a cure.

He's still trying to find his wand.

Caressing his erection gently, I make him hiss...more like yell, "_Granger!_" He nearly slams his hand in the drawer.

Smiling naively, I rub my hands up his inner thigh when he continues to look for it. Draco glares. He ends up tearing the drawer from his nightstand before I stop fondling him long enough to make him find his wand so that he can perform a Protection charm on me. It's a good thing because I need him. _Now_.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I can feel him, so close, right where I need him, but not just there. He's teasing me; the bastard. Trying to force him in, I reach between us, only to have him grab my hands and keep them over my head with one hand while the other holds his erection. Just when I think he's going to push it in, he rubs my clit, making me squirm and moan.

"Draco, don't tease me," I murmur gruffly.

Hoarsely, he asks, "How much do you want me?"

"You know how much."

"Tell me." There's more flicking. I gasp.

I can't concentrate. "M-more than a-anything._ Please_."

I wait in anticipation for his next move. He slowly kisses down my body, taking his time. Arching into him, I whine under my breath. He's going to torture me like I tortured him. I purr when he starts playing with the sensitive bud of my clit with his tongue. Or not. Draco is sprawled on his stomach, fingers sliding in and out while his tongue teases me in the most intimate of places.

Colours. Colours are all I can see when he working his own magic on my clit. Blues. Greens. Purples. Each colour more vivid than the last. My entire body lurches and I cry out. I drift. I drift in and out of this blissful feeling. I drift in and out of this haze. On and on—that is, until he slowly starts kissing his way around my body. Starting from inner thigh, he works down to my knees and back up all the way to my face, taking his precious time to kiss and suck every inch of me. By the time he kisses my lips, I'm quivering and whining, "I-I can't take that anymore."

"I know, I can't either." He rasps. His hand reaches between us again, and he doesn't waste a moment as he slides inside with one smooth motion.

Breathless, I arch my back, knees clinging to him fervently. It's really unexpected, going from empty to being instantly filled with him. Judging from the glossy look in his eyes, he doesn't expect it either. My legs clutch his sides harder when he pulls out and fills me once again. I can't stop the shriek from escaping my lips. Damn it, I'm already on edge and we haven't really started yet. It's quick. All of it, from the initial thrust, it's fast approaching. I'm shaking—but he stops.

Lips sweep over mine, kissing me tenderly as he rests inside, trying to calm me—to calm himself. Tender touches, passionate kisses, and wandering hands touch every inch of me, all of it works wonders. But then Draco rolls his hips and I'm instantly possessed and on edge again. Lips press against my forehead as he buries himself to the hilt. "Damn, you're always so bloody tight."

"Draco!" He has me writhing, meeting his thrusts to suck as much of him into me as I can. I want this. I _need_ him. No matter how wild I get, he restrains himself, takes his time, and rubs my lower stomach in slow circles as he moves in and out.

I want to kiss him hard, but he soothes me with gentle kisses and rubs my stomach. I want to touch him, but he wants nothing more than for me to enjoy this, swatting my hands away when I try to speed things along. No participation, nothing but me and him and this feeling. I know Draco wants to draw this out of me and because of this he's the complete opposite of me. His groans are soft while mine are frantic. This is torture, but at the same time, it's wonderful.

My nails dig in his back, I'm holding on for dear life. I feel him; hear him breathing raggedly into my ear. He moves, stops, and moves again, letting a small whimper escape his lips. It fuels me. After I don't know how long, he hasn't sped up and I'm nearly in tears from wanting him so bad. I want this to last forever, but I can't hold on—not even for five minutes. Draco hasn't fucked me senseless and I'm already close. I don't care that it's quick, only that it feel right—it feels good. He has complete control over me as he snogs me intensely. The passion of his kiss is hard enough to handle; now it's being combined with the feel of him sliding in me.

I keep clinging to him, feeling totally liberated from not to have to do anything, uninhibited from the feeling of him manipulating my body with his, and serene from being like this, without effort or reservation. This is freedom. This is everything. This is one of the reasons I'm so caught up. I don't think I can give this for another two months. Being with him makes me feel so alive. My nails drag down his back and his breath catches; it's like I'm having a seizure, I'm shaking so hard.

He slams into me hard, just once and I cry out in pleasure, it's just enough to take me just past the point of no return.

Draco eases out of me, moves onto his knees for a second, and I think, no, I know I'm going to lose my bloody mind.

"Please, Draco, don't stop."

His voice is thick with emotions, "I have no plans to; you're suffocating me." I'm at a loss. He smiles and kisses me, "Don't worry, just enjoy."

And I do.

My eyes open in time to see him hovering over me. His eyes are fixed on what he's doing as he eases into me once again. I groan, wrapping my legs around him. We're molded together, moving together, as one. It takes no time to reach that point again, that edge is still waiting for me to topple over it. He's still gentle with this. Still slow, but just a bit faster. Draco's face has a dreamy expression that I'm all too familiar with. He's close. I touch his cheek lovingly; he turns his head to suck my thumb.

"_Ugh_." The sound slips from my mouth in an oddly strangled voice that doesn't belong to me. Draco looks so bloody good nursing my finger that I can't stand it. My body shivers involuntarily, something inside me shifts and I feel like my body is being possessed. Frustrated, I snarl against his lips, "Damn it, Draco! Just—"

Growling, he grabs my hips roughly and does _exactly_ what I want. Thank Merlin. My body instantly reacts. I cry out and do my best to meet each hard thrust. He fucks me mercilessly, grunting with each thrust. I'm in heaven, walking towards my orgasm. I can see it. I'm right there. I see it more clearly when Draco starts talking dirty in my ear, telling me how he likes fucking me this rough, how good I feel around him, and how he's going to fuck me until I can no longer walk. I can't wait until he fulfills that promise.

One more rough thrust sends my body into an emotional whirlwind as my orgasm annihilates every ounce of self-control I have. Shameless pleasure spills from me, so much I can't handle it, so much it brings tears to my eyes. I'm frozen, yelling his name, back arched as high as I can possibly go. He holds me close, tightly, kissing all over my face, tears included. His body shakes as I ride my own orgasm.

"Are you all right?" He asks huskily, face inches from my own. He's moving against me slow and gentle again.

I just grin, still riding the perfect orgasmic waves. "Perfect," Somehow I manage to keep my eyes open and fixed on him as the rest of my body rocks through the rest of this blissful orgasm. He's shivering against me and dropping kisses everywhere. When I whisper, "Draco, make me come again," he tenses, tightens his grip, and all gentleness dissipates once again.

He's shaking. I pull him flush on top of me and his hips buck wildly with each trust. Legs shaking, he's moaning like crazy as he fucks me hard—just how I like it. Meeting each thrust, I feel myself clamp down around him, dragging my nails down his back. Draco gasps and thrusts faster. I moan, or at least I think I'm moaning; it's all hazy now. All I hear is him moaning my name. All I smell is him. All I can see is him running full throttle towards the edge and I follow him once again.

I shake in his arms, hissing his name and bucking against him with no abandon; back arched slightly and body on fire. Again, it's quick, I can't even begin to control myself, but I don't mind. Draco, I suppose, doesn't mind either. He tilts to his side a little, slips his hand between us and rubs my clit to help me along. It's a quick and simple way to bring me right back to where I was before and I really, _really_ appreciate it.

Opaque grey eyes gaze into mine, and his movements become more frantic. Draco tries to look away, but I force him to keep his eyes on me, "Don't look away," I whisper weakly.

He's groaning roughly.

I love this. I love it when his eyes are on me. They're so open, set, and vulnerable. His guard is completely down right now and I think he knows this. I think that's why he wants to close his eyes—so I can't see just how vulnerable he is...but I can't let him do that. A battle wages to keep eye contact, he's shaking his head, telling me no, growling, biting his lip hard. But his eyes never leave mine. The sight alone of him, gnawing on his lip with defenceless eyes that seem to stare into my soul, propels me closer again.

As my breath leaves me, I can tell he's holding back, or at least he's trying to. I don't want him to. Draco tries to slow down, but I refuse to let him slow down the inevitable. Rolling us over, I pin him against the bed with strength I didn't know I possessed. As lips hover over his, my eyes lock on his and I ride him, bucking my hips against his absolutely no abandon.

His eyes roll around in his head as I fuck him ruthlessly. "Come for me, please," I whisper in his ear, panting and nibbling, moving against him swiftly and vigorously. "Come with me..."

And he does.

And I do, too.

My back arches and I scream this haggard cry that dies along with my breath. I collapse on his chest, holding on to him tight. One sensation blends into the next, leaving me shaken with emotions. I'm his. I know this is crazy, but I am. I belong to him right now and there's nothing except pleasure overwhelming me at the moment. I find myself gnawing on his shoulder, holding him tightly. Draco holds me just as tight and presses into me with every inch of him, resting himself inside me as he throbs.

I'm shaking so hard I don't even notice his hand on my back, rubbing, trying to relax me just a bit. As he rides and recovers from his own orgasm, Draco whispers in my ear, breath matches my own. He tells me what he's feeling, how he's feeling, and how I make him feel. The honesty of his words makes my face flame and when he moves to ease out of me, I stop him. I don't want him to move. I like this. I like the feel of him under me, drenched in sweat and shivering. He starts touching and kissing me with shaky hands and tender lips. Just the feel of him trembling against me makes him appear so exposed, not at all like the Draco Malfoy I'm used to. He's changed and that's okay with me.

So when he pulls the covers over us and I snuggle against him, I fall asleep knowing that everything has changed.


	9. Thunder

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling does. Life is still good.

Author's note: Thanks again for all the positive reviews. That last chapter was one of the hardest chapters I've ever had to write so I'm glad to see that you all liked it. I was reading some of the reviews and I realised that the way I ended chapter 8, that really could've been the end of the story...and I considered ending it there...but I had another 9 or so chapters planned and already written for this story. So instead of ending it there, I decided to shift the storyline and dive into their actual relationship, equipped with reactions and little flashbacks about their relationship. Also, I'm working on learning how to write action scenes (I've never written one before) and I used this and the next chapter as practice. As usual, please read and review. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_(Two months later: August 14th)_

What follows that night is the best summer of my life.

Everything about Draco is one surprise after the next. Just when I don't think it can get better, it does. Just when I think my feelings for him are starting to wane, they return with a vengeance, shredding any thought that this is just a little trifling affair.

Just when I think I can look at him without my throat drying…

…when I think I can touch him without those mutant bats fluttering around in my stomach…

…when I think I'm okay…

…when I think I've had my fix of Draco Malfoy…

Merlin, he does something that shuts down all thought processes completely. Seriously…he's _that_ good.

I think it's pointless to say that after that memorable night, we don't leave his house for the duration of the weekend, but I'll say it anyway. For the next 48-hours after establishing that we're not just about sex, we're _all_ about sex. All day and all night…with little breaks for trivial things like eating, bathing, drinking, me checking messages on my cell phone, him taking a jog around the block, and a few conversations…I've _never_ been so grateful for such a continuous clarification.

For the next 48-hours, there is a silent, clothing-optional rule in effect. For the next 48-hours we touch, caress, and pet one another out of sleep. I wake up with his fingers inside me, mouth latched onto a nipple. I wake him up by sucking him to full erection. It's wonderful because having no reserve is different from what I'm used to, it's really refreshing. Really. I don't think I can stress that enough.

I've learned more about myself this weekend than I have in the 25 years I've been alive.

Sometimes we just shag: him on top, me on top…I never knew I was so good.

Sometimes we switch positions: on all fours, one leg at a 45° angle, legs in the air…I never knew I was so flexible.

Sometimes we try something new: deep throat, 69…I never realised I knew so much about sex.

Sometimes we try it in some place new: kitchen table, chair, stairs…I never realised I was so adventurous.

I want to say it feels the same to me, but it doesn't. His touch and kiss are more affectionate, a little more reverent, but is eyes are the same, watching me in an enigmatic gaze I don't have a spare moment to analyze until I leave. We're so tired by Saturday afternoon that we sleep for the rest of the day, spooned together until noon the following day.

It's not until he goes to start the bath with the promise that I'll join him when I call Ginny, telling her that yes, I'm still here and yes, she'll get a report Monday night at dinner before Draco sneaks up behind me, grabs the phone, says a few words that resemble,_ "she'll call you back later"_, and hangs up.

* * *

_(Almost two months ago)_

_When Draco kisses me goodnight beside my car, I don't want to leave, but I don't want to seem weak and clingy already either. I realise I'm not alone in these feelings when he holds me a little bit longer when I hug him. I don't feel so bad anymore. Our arms are still around each other._

_Just inches from my lips, "Sure you don't want to stay the night?" _

_Damn, I shiver, "I do…but I have things to do tonight."_

"_Forget them…and **stay**."_

"_Crookshanks needs some attention. Ginny's been feeding him for the last two days and he's probably cross with me."_

_He kisses me softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I should break the kiss, back away, get in my car, and drive away…and I would do all of that…if I could. It never fails, when he kisses me I'm rendered immobile, all I can do is kiss him back. He always kisses me like he'll never see me again and I really like that. _

_I think I could do this all night; we'll have to test this theory out tomorrow after work. _

_After what seems like minutes, he pulls away slowly, that damn arrogant smirk present, "**Still** want to go home?"_

"_Never said I did…I said I **needed** to go home."_

_Slowly, his face breaks out with a small smile and he rests his chin on my head, kissing me there, "I know."_

"_Are you going to let me go now?"_

_His voice softens, "I'm rather comfortable right here."_

_My voice is small, my heart is in my throat, "Me too."_

_Ten minutes later and he's closing my car door behind me, waving. I miss him already, even though I'm going to see him tomorrow. I feel like a silly teenager with a crush: butterflies (no, mutant bats), constant grinning, spluttering, blushing, and all. It's stupid, I know, but I can't help it. I don't want to. _

_I roll down the window, "See you tomorrow."_

_He nods, "Don't get too busy and forget about our lunch date tomorrow."_

_I smile, "Never."_

_He leans through the window and kisses me again. It takes another minute, but I slowly begin the decent down his driveway. He waits until I am out of sight to go back inside._

* * *

Try as I may, I can't get enough of him…not just in bed, but in general as well. I enjoy his company and with him I feel balanced. With him, I don't feel like I have to know all the answers. With him, I don't feel like I have to wear a mask. With him, I don't feel as isolated as I sometimes feel with Harry, Ginny, and even Ron.

Yes, they are the first friends I've ever had, my faithful friends, I love them…

…but for years I've been an outsider in my own clique.

I'm not interested in the same things they are. I don't think I've _ever_ been. I don't _understand_ the purpose of Quidditch and I'm not as fascinated by like my best friends are. I was only a fan because of infamous house rivalries at school and they played on the team. Ron, Ginny, and Harry talk about it all the bloody _time_…not to mention they talk about Quidditch fans, different Quidditch pits, new Quidditch brooms, Quidditch protection gear, and Quidditch clubs. Most of the time, I just nod, yawn with intense boredom, and drink my self-spiked mead.

To be perfectly honest, I'm currently disinterested with the thought of marriage and bringing children into the world. I don't know when and if my mind will change, but right now, that's my decision. No kids. No marriage. But Harry and Ginny can talk about married life, parenting, and James forever it seems. Ron too. When we were dating, I always got bored with these topics while they chattered on incessantly. I always ended up drinking too much Firewhisky or wine and rendered myself incapable of Apparating home.

Before Ron and I broke up, every conversation outside of the typical run-of-the-mill conversations was about any of the aforementioned topics and other topics I don't particularly care for, such as: flying, brooms in general, life as an Auror, life as a Quidditch player, food, life as a famous person, psychotic fans, nappies, and…well, you get the point.

Although I pay attention, I never let them know just how uninterested I am. I really _do_ love hearing about the lives of my best friends, but none of these subjects interest me enough to talk about unremittingly…

* * *

_(A month and three weeks ago)_

"_James started crawling two days. I set him on the floor because he likes to rock, but this time, the little bugger took off. I chased him for nearly five minutes before I caught him," Ginny beams, despite exhaustion. _

_Laughing, I pat her arm sweetly, "Better you than me."_

_She takes a few sips of her coffee, smirking before yawning, "Merlin, he gets into **everything**. When mum watched him yesterday, Harry and I spent the day putting everything out of his reach. It took four** hours**. We missed the Quidditch game on the wireless!"_

"_Oh, no," I reply sarcastically, but I keep it serious so she'll never know._

"_Glad to see you feel my pain! It really was devastating! I wanted to see how my team is doing," Ginny pouts._

_Assuring, "You'll see when Harry takes you to the game next week."_

"_True," she snaps her finger suddenly as if she's just remembered something, "Oh! Don't forget about dinner tomorrow night…will Malfoy be there?"_

"_No, he's going to an Ancient Runes conference for the weekend in __Scotland__. I'm meeting him there on Saturday."_

"_Ancient Runes conference? Can you spell B-O-R-I-N-G? Merlin, you two **are** perfect for each other."_

_I give her a scowl, which is ineffective because I'm smiling, "We are, huh?" I grin brightly, "Remind me to make sure I have everything out of reach before you come over tomorrow night. I have no desire for a raven-haired baby to get in my belongings."_

_She sighs dreamily, "Merlin, raven-hair is right…James is looking and acting more and more like Harry every single day…"_

"_Where are the boys now?"_

_Ginny smiles evilly, "…I left them both at home together. Let him run around after James for a while…super-baby is what I like to call him these days, he's so fast. How is it that he crawls faster than most people walk?"_

_I laugh again, "No clue."_

* * *

I'm a rational person. I have full knowledge and understanding of who I am as a person and I don't try to hide it from _anyone_, but over the years, I've learned to stifle thoughts, not to discuss certain topics, and feign constant interest to fit in. Unknowingly, I wanted someone just as zealous as I am about topics like Arithmancy, theories of magic, out-dated spells, magical properties of certain ingredients used in specific potions, and even Muggle subjects like art, science, history, and literature…I didn't even realise what I was missing until him.

With Draco…everything is simply different.

I don't have to restrain anything because we're interested in similar subjects and topics. He may be a _huge_ Quidditch fan, but he can also discuss topics I enjoy too and conversation between us is fluid, drifting between subjects easily. I don't have to pretend because he knows me like I know myself, he always has.

Draco is my equal in every sense of the word.

* * *

_(Last month)_

"_We have an emergency," Draco informs from my doorway._

_Melissa looks up, but I don't. I have to get this work done so I wave him off, "Not now, I'm—"_

"_Well, if you're not interested in a Muggle under the Imperius curse holding up a Muggle bank, threatening to blow themselves and everyone else up—"_

_The quill falls from my hand, Melissa gasps, "What—"_

"_Get in some Muggle clothes, the both of you, we've been instructed by the Minister to Apparate inside the bank and handle the situation. There's an Obliviator on the scene, as well as a few Aurors are there disguised as members of the Muggle bomb squad…just in case it gets nasty and we need to help out."_

_Scrambling out of my chair, he quickly transfigures my robes into something more suitable and I grab my wand from my drawer, before meeting a similarly dressed and frightened Melissa at the door. "Now, before we leave, I—"_

"_Need more information?" he cuts me off, questioning. I nod and he proceeds, "The Muggle is not really a Muggle. He's a squib, but he's lived his life as a Muggle. His name is David Harris, he's 39 and an employee of the bank. His parents are half-bloods and his cousin works in the Department of Mysteries. He has a wife and a baby girl."_

"_How is he…mentally?" _

"_Seemingly normal, nothing traumatic, but this morning the Improper Use of Magic office traced large quantities of magic coming from his house, then an unforgivable. Aurors arrived on the scene minutes later and he was gone, his wife was stupefied. They revived her, got her story, and altered her memory and sent her to __Scotland__ for her safety."_

_With a crack, we Apparate to the bank manager's office, Melissa is right behind us._

"_Okay," I commit every word to memory, "so who's the wizard they think did this?"_

"_Doholov. He was spotted a couple of blocks down the street. He was just released from Azkaban and I think he's trying to make a diversion to get inside the Ministry. We have Aurors back at the Ministry to keep an eye out—"_

_Melissa gasps, "He's still alive?" _

_Pensively, I stare at him, "I don't think he'd do all this, risk his neck—"_

_Draco smirks, "Now is not the time for you to launch into a quest for reason and motive. Leave it to hit wizards, the Minister, and the Aurors. Right now, our job is to get to David Harris and disarm him…safely, okay?" _

_Nodding, "I understand."_

"_So…what's your plan?" he questions after a brief silence _

_I look at the girl standing between us, "Melissa, how good are you at Disillusionment charms?"_

_Draco smiles, he already knows what I'm about to do._

_Fifteen minutes, the scene is resolved, memories altered, and the hunt for Doholov is on. _

_This is no longer my battle and I'm thrilled not to be an Auror at the moment. Draco is too. The entire Ministry is under alert and we're closing the building down early until we can get the proper protection for everyone who works there. Melissa and a her boyfriend, who is an Auror, meet us back at the office we Apparated into. She's a little shaken, but she's done well. I'm really proud of her. _

_Melissa and her boyfriend Apparate back to her office to pick up her belongings, leaving us alone for the first time all day. _

_He uses the opportunity to kiss me until my knees weaken, pulling back only to ask in a rasping voice, "Ready?"_

_I nod. Draco takes my hand, kisses it, and Apparates us to his house._

* * *

After spending the clothing-optional weekend at his house, I'm no longer puzzled about where I stand in the life of Draco Malfoy…nor am I confused about, well, _anything_ really. It's not just because of his couch confession, not because of the 48-hour shag-fest, and it's not because of the way he holds me.

It's because I leave his house that Sunday night with a definitive title: _girlfriend_, equipped with an anniversary and lots of memories.

Yes, we decide to see if this bizarre relationship we have can work outside the bedroom.

I'm glad to say that so far, it's good. The first two months of our relationship find us quiet together, not an awkward quiet, but a relaxed one.

* * *

_(A month and one week ago)_

_Kids run around the park after days of being cooped up from the rain. The patch of grass we're sitting on isn't wet anymore, just soft. I'm content with reading, he's content with sitting behind me with his legs stretched out and me sitting between them. His hand holds mine in a firm grip, not grasping, as his eyes watch the sun's descent over the horizon with a certain expectancy I've come to enjoy in our first three weeks together._

_Today is in the last chapter of what I consider to be the perfect definition of a pretty __London__ summer afternoon: warm setting sun, decent temperatures, azure blue skies, and almost no wind. It's simple. It's perfect…and so is this. _

_All is quiet between us, besides the sounds of happy kids running around and playing, chattering parents, faint music from distant stereos, barking dogs, the occasional squeal, and playground sounds. _

_Draco wraps an arm around my waist and I relax back against him, my free thumb brushing the back of his hand that's entwined with mine. I smile and turn the page. Despite being in a crowded park, I can easily forget that clocks tick, that we're **not** the only two people in the world, and there's no way to escape the desk that awaits me tomorrow morning._

_I can just let myself get carried away by his soft touches and kisses. _

_He kisses my hair, my shoulder, my cheek. I sigh peacefully as chaos ensues all around us. He's my oasis and I'm his. _

_This, what we have, it may not last another day, hell, it may not last another **hour**. Draco isn't perfect; and no matter how hard I try…neither am I. We're going to fight; we're going to get mad at each other; we're going to consider hexing one another, but it doesn't matter, at least not now. All we can do is live and be as we are right now. _

_Leisurely, I close the book and my eyes momentarily. Between the rhythm of his breathing and the feel of his hands entwined in mine, I'm relaxed enough to think about turning my head to kiss him. _

_So I do._

* * *

It's my idea to keep our relationship a secret at work…an idea he doesn't particularly agree with, but I really _do_ have my reasons…reasons I haven't shared.

I like to think it's uncomplicated this way. It's liberating when I pull him into my office and have my way with him during our lunch hour. If we ever break up, I'm going to request to have a new office because we've made so many memories in this one. It's wonderful when I feel his eyes on me during heated meetings with the other departments. They don't like me very much, but when he places his hand on my knee under the table, I find myself not caring at all.

Still, there is a certain decorum that we have when we work together. Draco and I…we don't need words to say the things normal people say to each other; like pass me a quill, tell me more about this case, or even which book I need. He just knows what I need and when I need it; we anticipate the other's moves and feelings…

…and_ shh_, don't tell him, but just being in the same room as him makes me feel like I can do and be _anything_.

* * *

_(A month and a half ago)_

_The original second-war anniversary party was postponed because Ron couldn't get back into town. _

_Now that he can, the party is back on…tonight. After listening to speeches about how we, the Golden Trio, saved the entire wizarding world from Voldemort and Death Eaters, hiding from Ron as much as I can (Ginny helped), making a bland speech thanking the Ministry for all it has done (Harry rolled his eyes at that one), and auctioning off valuables for the Voldemort Victim's Fund (we made a ton of galleons), Draco holds open the car door, gesturing for me to get in._

_When I don't, he rolls his eyes, "You're being stubborn."_

_I fold my arms, nose high in the air, huffing, "No, I'm not…you're not taking this serious enough."_

_Frustrated, he groans, "Just get in the bloody car, Hermione. We'll talk about whatever the hell your problem is later."_

"_Whatever the hell is my problem? You know what my damn problem is!" Angrily, I yell, "Women were flirting with you all night in my face…and what's **worse** is that Pansy Parkinson tried to snog you!"_

_He looks at me, even more annoyed, "Tried is the key word there. She tried…and I promptly shoved her away like I always do. None of those women are a threat. Pansy isn't a threat. She's engaged to Theodore Nott for Merlin's sake."_

"_Well apparently she still wants you, engaged or not."_

_Draco growls, "Pansy only wants what she can't have, what she'll never have. True, she wants me, but the feeling isn't mutual and you know that," he frowns, staring me down with cold eyes, "I don't even know why you're getting upset about this. She thinks I'm still single…everyone thinks I'm single. That's why women flirt with me…they don't know about us…and I'm sick to death of people not knowing about us…"_

"_L—"_

_Cutting me off, he rages on, "And what's **worse** is that you fly into these jealous fits and rages when someone looks at me, approaches me, or in Pansy's case, tries to snog me. You know, this whole thing could've been avoided by telling her and everyone that we're dating."_

_I pop my knuckles and he winces, annoyed. Oops. "Draco…I'm not ready—"_

_Bitterly, he slams the door, "Way to make me feel special, Granger," he cuts me off dully, shaking his head, "You know…maybe this whole relationship thing isn't work—"_

_I can't stop myself. I push him against the car with a resounding thud. He towers over me and I don't care…he's not going to leave, not like this, not now. It's only been about three weeks, who the hell is he to decide if we're working out or not. _

_Draco's face is twists in anger when I stare up at him; even in the darkness I see his clenched jaw. I don't ease up for one second, it's honestly now or never._

"_G—"_

_Timidly, "Don't."_

_Draco snarls, ready to push me away, but I hold on to his arms, "Don't what?" he barks._

_Shaking, "Don't walk away, not before I can explain," Tears are fresh in my eyes and I don't care that I look weak; I just want him to understand. Emotional and nearly weak from the thought of him leaving, I continue, "We are good together. I know this just as well as you do. You **know** how I feel about you…so don't emasculate my feelings for you just because I don't want to tell the world just yet," my voice strengthens, "I do. I do want to tell everyone. I want to invent new hexes and curses to use on anyone who even **looks** at you for a second longer than they should, but—" I'm angry at the thought of the leering stares and the giggles so I take a moment to calm myself._

_His voice is curt, but at least he's not shoving me away, "But what, Hermione?"_

_I hear my voice break again when I admit in a stubborn voice, "I'm a selfish and jealous woman and I've **never** been like this before. I don't even know what's wrong with me…this may sound crazy and obsessive and completely unlike me, but I want you…to myself. Without the publicity, the envious glares, or anything else that goes along with being the girlfriend of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor. I want us to have privacy…just for a little while…I want you to myself. You're mine. I don't want to share you. Is that selfish of me?" I ask, hopelessly, clinging to him._

_His features soften, "No."_

* * *

Draco Malfoy is a self-proclaimed non-romantic, but that's not true.

He can keep up appearances in public, at work, in meetings, and even over dinner with Ginny and Harry, but I know him too well to believe any of that mess for one second. Draco may wear a thick armour, thicker than mine, to protect himself from whatever it is he feels he needs protecting from. He may be the toughest person I know. He may even be so intense, so in my face without actually _being_ in my face. Draco may be a lot of things, but he _isn't_ a non-romantic.

I'm not dozy, I'm actually quite observant, but you all know that, right?

Draco may think I don't notice the little things, but I do. His hands trembles when they come in contact with mine. He shivers when I whisper in his ear…and the way he kisses me…Merlin, if that doesn't scream romantic, I don't know what does. His eyes get distant when he's daydreaming. I can't figure out what he's fantasizing about, but I know he is. Draco smiles when I smile, even if we're smiling about two different things. He nuzzles after sex and that tells it all. The tell-all signs (running his fingers through his hair and picking at his clothes) tell me he's nervous around me. Sometimes I still don't think he can believe we're still together, we almost didn't make it this far.

Everyday is a new memory for us and he makes sure I'm reminded of the good times with little gifts and notes.

He doesn't forget very much and it's nice to see he appreciates the little things like I do.

* * *

_(Three weeks ago)_

_Harry stares at us, "Let me get this straight…you two are together?"_

_I nod, placing my hand over his, "Yes, for just over—" _

"_A month," Draco finishes my sentences, he does that a lot. "Look, I don't need your blessing, Potter, but I want it…for Hermione."_

_Surprisingly, Harry takes the news better than I ever anticipate. I expect him to cause a scene, yell about loyalty, and immediately join forces with Ron to try and break us up…but he just says, "She's my best mate, and if you even **think** about hurting her, I'll—"_

_Draco rolls his eyes, "Enough with the threats, Potter…I get it. If I hurt her, you'll turn me into a tea cosy, blah, blah—we're not at Hogwarts anymore."_

"_You're lucky I like you now," Harry smirks, "Still…I'm warning you. Don't hurt her, Malfoy."_

_A grin spreads across my face. Ginny eyes me over the table. _

_Draco wraps an arm around me protectively, "I won't, Potter," he says calmly, "I waited too long for this to muck it up." _

_Harry smirks, "You really **have**, huh?"_

_What the bloody hell is going on here? "Did **everyone** know about your crush on me?" I ask, aghast and confused._

_Ginny smiles, "Well, Malfoy told me…Harry just guessed it one night. We were writing down baby names and he looked at me and asked me if Malfoy liked you. I said yes. He just nodded and laughed."_

_I chuckle and turn to Draco, "Must've liked me a lot for Harry to notice…he's famous for being oblivious."_

_Harry playfully glares. _

_Draco laughs, "I did…I **do**…but Ron was always there in the way though." _

"_Speaking of Ron," Harry pipes up, "I won't tell him…I'll let you have the honour."_

_Chuckles, "That'll be a fun day."_

_I scoff sarcastically, nudging him gently, "If by "fun" you mean, hellacious…then sure, it'll be "fun," right on up there with the time I spent forever in the infirmary after I turned myself into a cat with Polyjuice potion. Great fun."_

* * *

Okay…back to the present…I have to try hard to push Draco from my thoughts now.

Right now, it's Friday and I have work to do. I want to leave on time for our date to celebrate two months together and it hasn't been a good day, not that I'm surprised. After having a few good Fridays, today, despite the rose from Draco, is a strong reminder me why I don't particularly care for them.

After a particularly nasty meeting with the other departments within Magical Law Enforcement, involving curse words, angry voices, and, _"You think you can come in here and tell me how to do my bloody job!"_ I'm in need of a break and come to the wizarding restaurant right next to the Ministry building.

I'm sipping on butterbeer and looking around for Draco who is supposed to meet me here in five minutes. It's virtually empty, only a squib who works here, and a few female interns fresh out of school, not to mention, an old wizard heading for the exit.

"Why if it isn't the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," a loud voice sneers above me, too deliberate to be friendly. I barely look up, noting the three hulking figures lounging over me before returning to my glass.

They take empty chairs around me, trying to intimidate me with stares. They're older wizards, purebloods, probably in their late-thirties and they sadly underestimate me. Immediately, I commit their identity to memory in the event that something should happen. Alderon: the secondary of the Improper Use of Magic department. Avery: a magical law enforcer with a nasty attitude. And lastly, Gamp (the one who sneers): on Wizengamot.

"Something you need?" I ask coolly.

"You look like you chewed a bloody sock, Ms. Granger," Alderon baits, his voice as haughty as ever, "What is the matter with you? Can't handle the job?" False sympathy oozes from his slightly chapped lips.

Setting the butterbeer down, I look at them calmly, "Perhaps it's the company I'm with," my tone resembles glass.

Their faces twist into masks of loathing before morphing back into pitying sneers, "You and your word games," Gamp scoffs, "The Minister may think it's cute, but it's not working anymore. Everyone _hates_ you."

The room has gone quiet all of a sudden, quieter than it already is.

I take another sip of butterbeer, feeling the soothing, cool liquid rushing down my throat as I will myself not to extract my wand, pull a Ginny, and have them running from their bogies, "I'm sure the Minister appreciates your support," I mutter absently. "As for everyone else, they can hate me all they want, but as long as they do their jobs to the best of their abilities I have no qualms with them."

Avery says snobbishly, "You should watch your mouth when speaking to your superiors." he sits up straight.

"I hope you don't mean yourself because last I checked _I_ run the entire department, not you."

"Why you snivelling little m—"

Sneering with a challenging gleam in my eye, "Call me a Mudblood, Avery, I_ dare_ you. The Ministry will not be so kind…especially considering your familial ties with Death Eaters…you'll be fired, banished from Ministry functions, and tossed into Azkaban before you can say the word _Mudblood_. I guarantee it." I stand up, gathering my coffee mug.

"Is that a threat?"

Walking away, I look back, cold, "No, it's a promise."

"Their out of their minds if they think a _woman_ can run the department of Magical Law Enforcement." Avery shouts after me.

I freeze, seething. _Just keep walking_, I tell myself, but it doesn't work.

"_You_, they think you can do it. The little brain from The Golden Triothinks she can turn up and start ordering us all around. I've been here ten_ years_, how dare you put me up for review! You're just trying to punish me for having Death Eater in my family…typical of a _woman_. The second women get authority they become like you, a bitter, snobbish, bossy, vindictive…_bitch_."

So that's what the problem is?

He's mad that I'm sending him to the review board to let them determine if he's an asset to the Ministry or a liability.

I'm thinking the latter.

He physically abuses the people he captures (regardless to whether or not they're guilty), intimidates his partners to the point where they want to be reassigned, forces confessions from innocent people, and he's even threatened me a few times out in the field when I worked alongside him. Hexing colleagues isn't below him; he's done it quite a few times. He has a volatile temper.

Next he'll be using unforgivable curses.

"What?" I screech, but immediately I control my rage, "Avery, you don't like me and that's fine, but let me make this crystal clear for you. I am doing what I was hired to do…sorry if the concept of working seems so foreign to you, but that's what workers do," I rant angrily, narrowing my eyes, "Me being a female has _nothing_ to do with the quality of my work _or_ my character. I don't judge you based on your family, just like you shouldn't judge me based on my gender. If you have such a problem under me, then transfer. You won't be missed, least of all by me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do…."


	10. Your Guardian Angel

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: There is a smut warning out on this chapter. I always like to end my updates with a sex scene, if you didn't already notice.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

_(Moments later)_

Avery is fumbling around for something when I turn to leave.

I think nothing of it…

"_Crucio!_"

…suddenly the worst pain I've ever felt in my life tears my body to shreds as I collapse in a heap on the ground, trying not to scream, but screaming anyway. The pain is blinding.

My vision blurs to the point where I can only make out shapes. How ironic, just when I think about him using unforgivable curses on colleagues, he uses one on me. I can't believe this is happening, right next to the Ministry, in front of these witnesses. The torture stops minutes after it begins, but the effects are still there. My muscles remain rigid on their own accord, preparing for more, as I try to scoot helplessly out the line of fire.

"_Bloody hell, Avery, stop it!"_

"_Are you mad? That's Hermione Granger!"_

I don't hear the curse, but I hear a body hit the floor. Then another. Someone screams, but it's cut off. Then another one goes down. _Four_, I count in my dazed head as I pull my body closer to the exit. In the midst of bodies falling, I feel around for my wand and find it and as the shapes begin to blur together, as everything begins to darken, I send up an urgent messenger Patronus and let my head rest against the cool floor, breathing raggedly.

Everything hurts too much. It even hurts to breathe. I hear the scurrying of feet make a run for it.

"_Oh my God! Help!_"

I try to pull myself away, again.

"Going somewhere, Miss. Granger? I think not. _Crucio!_"

Pain seizes me once again; my wand is knocked from my hand, leaving me defenseless once again. Instantly, I'm taken back to that night at Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix took pleasure in torturing me for information and the truth of Harry's identity. I thought I was going to go insane. For what seemed like hours, she giggled and cheered while I screamed and begged her to stop. The pain then is just like now. Clawing at the ground, I hear myself begging, pleading just like I did that night.

This feeling, this pain is one I wouldn't wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy. It feels like each and every one of my limbs is being torn off my body, piece by piece, painstakingly slow. My teeth grind against one another, my legs buckle, my head throbs…and he's laughing. I'm screaming and crying for help, without avail…and he's laughing. All I can do is flop on the floor, convulsing and slowly cracking from the sheer amount of pain coursing through my body.

Just when I think I can't take anymore…it's over.

Rolling onto my stomach, I want to get up, but instead I burst into tears, from the overwhelming memory more than the actual pain. I lay there, motionless, sobbing, and fearing that it'll start again. My body stings, but somehow I manage to reach for my wand when I hear feet approaching me.

A foot roughly rolls me on my back with his foot and I'm looking up into Avery's blazing eyes.

From the corner of my eye, I see Gamp and Alderon lying on the ground, motionless next to two interns.

My hand tightens around my wand, frightened and in too much agony to care about anything. I _have_ to get out of here.

"That's right, _cry_ you little bitch." He points his wand at me, but I'm faster.

"_Cru—_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

"_Incarcerous!_"

What the hell?

Not only is Avery's wand flying into my free hand, he's being bound by gold magical ropes. Someone helps me up in the midst of all this; it's Melissa. I thank Merlin for her.

"Miss Granger, are you okay? I got your Patronus and sent it to the Minister for help."

I can't even answer her, can't even thank her properly, I'm far too weak. Concern flashes across her face as she tries to steady me, but can't, so she sits me on the floor.

Avery is on the ground in front of me, struggling to break free from unbreakable binds. He's yelling and cursing, calling me a variety of derogatory names I don't hear because I turn my head to see Draco standing there, next to Harry, wand aimed, face twisted with rage. He starts to shoot off another spell, but Harry stops him.

A flash later and the room is filled with magical law officers, Minister Shacklebolt, a couple of Aurors, and a few Medi-witches, who immediately carts the victims off on conjured stretchers.

A few minutes later and Harry's sitting with me, his arm protectively around me while the Medi-witch checks me over, giving me a potion for the pain and healing the bruises on my head and my twisted ankle…I didn't even know my ankle was twisted. I look for Draco in the crowd and don't see his blonde hair anywhere.

Melissa stands next to me, currently cancelling my meetings and plans for the rest of the day.

She deserves a raise; I love her…today.

"What happened?" I ask Harry when she finishes healing my ankle. My head swims; it's been a long day.

"Malfoy and I were walking towards the coffee shop, talking about…well, in honesty," Harry sighs, "I was trying to get him to come back to the Auror department," my eyebrow rises, "Anyway, all of a sudden a bunch of things happened at once. Lucy, the only one who made it out without being stupefied or confounded, comes bursting out, crying and yelling for help. She said Avery went mad, hit you with a Cruciatus curse, and hexed everyone in the room who tried to stop him. Then he hit you with another Cruciatus curse. At the same time Melissa Apparated right to us and said you were in trouble and you sent off a Patronus. Malfoy was running to you before she finished telling the story, Melissa was hot on his heels, so I followed them. I came in after you disarmed him and Malfoy bound him. She must've sent a Patronus to everyone because they all got here fast."

"Nothing like a normal day in the Ministry of Magic," I chuckle ruefully, testing my healed ankle at the silent request of the Medi-witch, "It feels better." I inform, taking a few more steps. I turn to Melissa, "Can you grab my cloak from my office?" She nods and heads off. I look around for Draco, but _still_ don't see him.

"You need to take it easy for the rest of the day," she eyes me, "No work."

"_I'll_ see to that," Draco calmly speaks up behind me. I turn around only to find myself wrapped in his embrace, I rest my head against his chest, breathing him in.

My arms slowly encircle him as his lips graze my forehead.

"Where have you been?" I ask softly.

"Had to walk off my anger...I was trying_ not_ to commit murder," he replies gruffly in my hair.

Distantly, I hear a few audible gasps and whispers from bystanders, but I ignore them all.

I don't care about them or the fact that by Monday morning, the _entire_ Ministry and readers of gossip magazines will know I'm dating Draco Malfoy, ending two months of peace and quiet. Camera are snapping and from the corner of my eye, I see the Medi-witch wander off, smiling.

He pulls back, tilts my chin up to meet his gaze before cupping my cheeks in his hands, looking concerned, "Are you alright?"

I stare in his eyes and nod because it's all I can do when he holds me like this.

I catch Harry's wink and small smile, "Take care of her," He says to Draco. He has to deal with Avery and hugs me quickly, "Dinner? Tomorrow? We won't take no for an answer…from either of you," he eyes Draco who smirks, only nodding when I'm back in his arms.

At this little exchange, I smile, "Sure."

He mumbles in my ear, "Are you ready to go?"

Right on cue, Melissa appears with my cloak. I thank her, and give her the rest of the day off as well. Turning around, I notice everyone, especially the nosy interns and females staring at us, whispering back and forth. "They're staring."

"So? Let them stare, it's been two months." He draws me in for a quick kiss that instantly warms all over, takes the cloak from Melissa's extended arms (she blushes and giggles), gently takes my hand, and kisses it, "I don't sodding _care_ if they know about us. You'll still have me…all to yourself."

* * *

_(Later that evening) _

There's nothing like a massage from your boyfriend and a nap to make someone feel a lot better.

For our second month anniversary, Draco takes me to a bustling but pleasant Italian restaurant in Muggle London for the best pasta I've had in a long time. We're sitting at a small, semi-circular, candlelit booth table in the corner, near the back of the restaurant…mostly away from the rest of the restaurant. Its pretty private and secluded, the back of our booth is the only thing people can see when they first pass our table…

A long, thick pearl tablecloth that nearly touches the floor, hides our lower bodies from view…and it's a good thing too because I spent most of dinner with my hand on his thigh, lightly massaging him, just to arouse him a little bit. He shifts in his seat a little and glares…mission accomplished.

"Not fair, _Granger_."

"Perk up, _Malfoy_. The night isn't over yet."

He smiles mischievously, "Oh, I _know_ that…"

I don't even like how that sounds…

But no matter, now I'm ready to head back to my house, make out for a little bit on the couch, give him a wonderful massage to get him all relaxed and perfect, and with a wave of my wand I'm going to set up a nice bath for us in my Jacuzzi bath with rose petals, oils, candles, soap…the works. I have it all planned out, roses and candles placed, oil set out; the perfect scene for the perfect shag…umm, _bath_ in the tub.

Of course, things don't always work the way I plan.

Case in point, we run into Patil twins when the waiter takes our dessert orders…well, they pass our table once and don't see us. A minute later, they're passing _back_ by and upon seeing us Parvati decides to invite herself and her sister to sit for a quick chat, much to my chagrin.

I think their table is still getting cleared.

They heard about what happened at the Ministry and Parvati is in full questioning mode, as she should, she is a journalist for Witch Weekly. Padma could care less; she's a Medi-witch at St. Mungo's. She yawns.

Usually, I'm the nice one and he's cool, but tonight the roles have changed.

Draco is polite, answering her questions, while our entwined hands rest on the table. It's like a mini-interview, and he's turned on his charm. Meanwhile, I'm quietly listening, adding my opinions and comments when asked; unable to really think straight when his hand is entwined with mine and not to mention, terribly irritated that Parvati interrupted my plans.

Slipping my hand from his, I smooth my black dress and sip on my wine with a smile that hides my irritation.

I watch his hands while he talks, how they wrap around his glass of water before he takes a sip. I watch his eyes, how they're wide and friendly, but slightly guarded when he talks to them…but not to me, never to me.

Parvati chuckles at something he says, wriggling her eyebrow at me, "Hermione, I was so surprised when I heard about you two, so much that I was very sceptical, but you did really good snagging this one…_yummy_!"

My eyebrow threatens to touch the ceiling, Draco stifles a laugh, "Thanks, Parvati," I hide my stiffness, but he shifts his eyes to me, amused.

He knows I'm aggravated.

Fortunately, the maître d' approaches our table, letting them know their table is ready.

"You two have a great night," Padma smiles politely.

"Thanks for everything," Parvati holds up her interview pad, waving as we get up and leave, "Call me! It's been way too long since we last had lunch. Hannah has a new boyfriend…and we definitely need to talk some sense into her."

I grin, "Okay, I will…definitely!" _Go away, go away now so I can take my boyfriend home and shag his brains out._

When they leave, I take a very large sip of my wine and look at Draco…only to find him staring at me, lips curved upward.

"Tense much?" His grin is engaging.

I start to open my mouth to voice my annoyance and my insistence that he forget dessert, get the check so we can leave, but his fingers running up my knee halt all mental functioning.

"Well, Hermione, I think you're a little jumpy tonight. You need to follow the Medi-witch's order and just…_relax_." His voice drops to a low whisper, hands travelling up my dress and my thigh.

Raucously, "How can I relax when your _hand_ is up my dress?" I try to distract myself with everything in the world, including taking small sips of my wine while his fingers slip further and further up my dress…but it's no use.

Draco smiles evilly, "Well, you're the smartest witch of our year, I'm_ sure_ you'll figure out something," he inches closer, gathering my skirt so he can see what he's doing. The tip of his finger brushes against something he didn't expect. Bare lips. His eyebrow raises, hissing, "No knickers? My, my, you_ are_ my little _minx_."

"I aim to please," I hiss back when his fingers touch my lips again, smiling, "Though I didn't expect this…maybe in the car on the way home or on the couch…" I trail of, closing my eyes briefly. Damn it. This isn't part of the plan. Not at all. Biting my lip, I feel myself letting go and just going with it, letting him touch me however he wants. Who needs a plan? Fuck the plan. I don't need a plan. We'll get home eventually and I'll make him pay for teasing me like this.

He whispers in my ear in this deep husky voice that makes me tingle, "Does this feel good?"

Dreamily, "Heavenly."

More husky whispering, "Good…I like to make you feel good…I was waiting until they left to do this."

He_ planned_ this, that sneaky little ferret.

To onlookers, if we had onlookers, which we don't (I checked), we look like a couple talking while waiting for dessert. Our heads are close together. Well, he has his lips close to my ear, whispering words that make me shiver. I have to put down this drink, but I can't move my hands and I've lost my coordination. Draco takes it from me, placing it on the table, not moving his fingers from between my legs.

Damn those fingers rest between my lips, damn them to hell…

His knuckle nudges my clit, making it sensitive and swollen. My vision blurs. I shiver hard, biting my lip harder.

"Don't do that, love," damn it, I wish he would stop whispering like that. I can't—

When he kisses me, I want it to be harsh and sloppy, but instead I get something chaste and tender. It takes me a moment to remember we're_ still_ in the busy restaurant. Still, this kiss seems to go on and on, never breaking, never stopping, just the endless feeling on his lips on mine, the endless feelings on his knuckle nudging my clit. I get so caught up in it, in the overwhelming feel of everything that I forget I need to breathe and pull away slowly, panting softly and trying to regain my bearing.

Of course, he doesn't let me.

"Love, you're so _wet_," still whispering, but this time he slides two fingers inside me, "so tight." He breathes on my neck.

I gasp softly. Each slow thrust of his fingers, each time his knuckle brushes against my clit, everything he does serves a purpose and is very meticulous. He always has a rhythm to these things. Takes his time in the beginning, works up to a good speed, and just when the world is about to crash, he rushes, only slowing down when I'm right there, as if he wants to draw the orgasm out of me. He's delicate, careful, thorough, and this makes each orgasm is different and new.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I relish in all the emotions and sensations running through me, including Draco's free hand rubbing my thigh. While his fingers move in and out of me lazily, I open my eyes again, he's got that shit-eating smirk on his face, the haughty smirk that says, _"I'm so damn good," _and Merlin, he is.

I can't take that one away from him.

When his knuckle scrapes over my clit again, I tense. I'm going to Avada his arse if I embarrass myself here tonight.

"You are so _dead_," I whisper breathlessly, shuttering when his fingers begin to draw circles inside me.

I feel his chuckle on my cheek, "You _know_ you love this," his fingers resume their rhythmic thrusting, faster, and a little harder, "You're always so sensitive, I love it. I love that it doesn't take me long to get you ready for me. You're always ready," he kisses my cheek, I shiver harder, his fingers move faster, he's freely rubbing my clit with his thumb and I'm not going to last…

_Damn. Shit. Fuck. _

This feels amazing.

Draco keeps whispering, his voice hoarse, "You like this, don't you? I know you do. I can feel it. You're so _wet_, love. You must _really_ enjoy my fingers inside of you with all these people around, _hmm?_" His fingers are moving rapidly, his wrist flexing.

Somehow, I manage a nod, unable to look at him. If I do, it's over…so a nod is the best I can do. It's too intense, what he's doing to me is too much. I can't take the intensity of this. My body is on fire, literally on fire. I have every intention on stopping him. I _really_ do. Honest, but I can't. His long fingers stroke into me hard and deep…and then they stop, everything stops all together.

"Sir?" our waiter says out of nowhere. My head jerks up. When did _he _get here? With everything happening, I didn't even notice, apparently Draco did, he's observant like that...and he's not being fingered under the table. "There seems to be an influx of people and there is a small back up in the kitchen. We'll have your dessert out as soon as possible. I apologise for the inconvenience."

"There's none at all," he speaks with his normal aristocratic voice, though it sounds to me a bit hoarse. The waiter notices nothing, but I do. I exhale, thinking I'm getting a short break, but I'll be damned if his fingers start moving again, nudging my clit gently, "Take your time. We're in no rush." His fingers go back to drawing circles inside me. Damn. I shiver a bit.

Prat.

Our waiter looks at me and I paste a casual smile on my face, despite the action going on under the table, despite the fact that I want to hump his hand right now.

I know I'm flushed, but the waiter speaks anyway, "Is the lady all right? She looks a bit…_pinkish_."

"Yes, she's quite fine, aren't you love?" he sends a relaxed smile my way. His thumb brushes my clit, ready to resume where it left off.

I just nod my head tensely, cursing Draco internally as I speak in what I hope is a normal voice, "It's just a bit _warm_ in here." There. That was good. A whole sentence…I should be proud. He nudges my clit again and I dig my nails into his leg. He doesn't flinch.

"I'll see to it that the thermostat gets turned down."

More confidently, "Thanks you very much. The meal was delicious. Please send our compliments to the chef."

He nods and walks off. When he's gone, I glare at Draco, who chuckles and asks, "What?"

"You could've stopped when he got here. You play dirty."

Raised eyebrow, his thumb rubs my clit _again_ and he leans into me seductively whispering, "Who said this was a game?"

Everything goes hazy again and I'm overwhelmed with this need…this urge…I want him.

Instead of insisting he stop before I reach the point of no return, he's coaxing my legs further apart…and I'm letting him.

As he fingers me a bit roughly, I buck my hips against his finger, slowly losing control over myself. A few strokes later, I morph into a shivering mess that grips his leg with my hand tightly, desperately clinging to my last bit of resolve.

My eyes close again. I feel myself fading, as if I'm lost in some hazy dream where it's just us. Lips part slightly, the lower one trembles as I whisper his name in a voice only he can hear. Draco is gentle when he touches my face; he's fingering me now with shaky hands that make everything he's doing so much better.

When I decide to open my eyes to look into his, I find him already there. He's so striking and intense; everything I've ever wanted, everything I could ever imagine…here he is, wrapped up in a little bow…and all mine. I feel my hips rock against his fingers harder…

He stops, "No, no…_don't_…let me do all the work. I like it when you let me do all the work."

I _can't_ take it. The whispering _has_ to stop. Right now, "Shh, stop bloody…w-w-whispering," I beg, whimpering, moaning very quietly. His voice is driving me bonkers. Methodically, my hips start to rock, rubbing my clit against his knuckle on my own accord and this time he lets me. Thank Merlin, because I can't sit still any longer.

His voice teases me, "You're close, aren't you?"

I nod, closing my eyes. One look and it will be over. His finger speeds up. I let out a small gasp.

Feeling his smirk against my neck, "Good. Come…and I'll take you home and make you come until you can't come anymore. I want you…I want you so bad, Hermione." His lips graze my forehead, my hips rock against his hand fluidly, it's getting harder and harder to contain myself, "Hermione, look at me," he whispers softly.

Opening my eyes, I focus on the table, vision hazy, and breath escaping in small gasps, "I-I-I _can't_." My thighs tense…I want to crush them together, but I can't. I want to grab him, but I can't. I want to throw him on the table and shag him right here and now, but I can't do that either.

The best I can do is stutter, shutter, and grip at the fingers of his free hand. He pulls his finger out slowly and uses it to rub my clit exclusively. I'm blind. I can't see—

"Come on, love."

My head rests back against the booth, legs spreading more, I'm panting softly, trying to keep my face normal.

The orgasm is right…_there_. His finger is back inside me, rotating, rubbing my walls while his thumb rolls on my clit.

I'm practically humping his hand, trying not to cry from the sheer intensity of this. He's dropping kisses on my face, fingers rocking inside me, murmuring unintelligible words in my ear. My body shakes and shivers like mad, I feel myself getting frantic, "_Draco_…" he caresses my cheek.

Now I _have_ to look at him. His eyes are intense, staring right into me, and shining.

"Yes?" he whispers, rubbing my cheek lovingly, fingers manipulating me like mad. I say nothing, "Do you know that this is driving me crazy _too_? I love touching you like this in public. You feel so bloody _good_."

I just whimper softly, unable to talk, nod, breathe, and think; I can't do anything. I feel like I'm suffocating. My body has gone rigid, shaking, I am desperate. I want this. I don't even care. I stare in eyes that literally throw me at the ledge. He whispers my name in a voice that sounds like a cross between a moan and a whisper. It's so erotic I nearly lose it right then and there.

He nips at my ear, kisses my cheek, rubs my clit six more times…and that's it. It's over. The tension peaks, I'm shaking like a leaf, hips driving down hard onto his finger, shoving it in as deep as it can go. My fingers claw at the material of the booth we're sitting in as some strange noise starts to rise from the back of my throat. Draco pulls me into a kiss before I cry out and I kiss him back, feverishly, shaking, not caring about anything.

Pulling back minutes later, he extracts his wet fingers, sucks them into his mouth, "_Mmm_, you taste good," he fixes my dress soon after because I can't and I don't care. Our waiter returns with our dessert and somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear him ask if we can get it to go.

Five minutes later, he's paying. A minute after that and a quick wave to the Patil sisters, I'm dragging him out the door. He starts to head for the car, but I'm pulling him into the empty alley next to the restaurant, extracting his wand from his jacket pocket, holding it out to him, "You better do it, I'm in no condition to Apparate."

"We could just drive—"

"To hell with that. We can pick the car up tomorrow. Let's go. I have plans for you, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

_(Moments later)_

As soon as we land in my living room, my lips crash against his and my original plan for us has officially flown out the window…until later. Draco pulls back, takes a breath I hear, and presses his mouth back to mine again, nibbling at my upper lip, then lower until we're kissing properly, deeply.

My mind drifts when he takes control of the kiss. I don't remember ever kissing someone so much, thinking about it so much, or liking it so much. His hands break me from my thoughts; they're on my back, pulling me close.

He's ready, I can feel him. He's ready and he's not going to take his time, not now. The next few seconds are hazy and rushed. We're bumping into everything as we make our way to the couch. I don't think we could make it to the bed if we tried.

He's pulling his pants down.

My dress is gone.

He's pushing me down on the couch.

I spread my legs.

He takes just a moment to position himself.

I pull him close.

He plunges into me in one hard thrust that makes me weak and a curse word spill from his lips.

"_Oh, fuck!_"

The heat, the intensity, and the emotions running between us are just as wonderful as they are agonizing. I wrap my legs high around his back as I lift my hips and help him fill me completely. Draco gasps weakly when I begin moving with him, meeting each of his hard thrusts with one of my own, possessing him as much as he possesses me at the moment.

Draco lips crash down on mine hard and he shags me harder, impetuously.

The build-up in the restaurant means this isn't going to last long. I already know this. I'm already close.

"Hermione, come on," he urges, moving faster, harder. My fingers grip his so hard it almost hurts, but he makes no effort to let go of my hand, "I want to feel you—" his head drops beside mine, breathing discordantly against my ear, "_Hermione._"

"_Draco_," I whimper weakly, letting the feeling in him in me overpower every single one of my senses.

His strokes are hard and deep. One after another, he pushes in and out, clinging to me almost as tightly as I cling to him, moaning just as loud as I am.

One thrust after the next, I lift myself to him, meeting him, giving in to him, letting him drag me closer and closer to my upcoming orgasm. Each thrust drives me deeper into the nest the couch makes around us. He hovers over me and I love the uncontrolled sounds he makes, the way he holds me, the way he sucks on my neck as he propels and moves in and out of me.

I close my eyes, moaning. I'll never be used to this, I'll never get used to the feelings and the sensations, and I'll never get used to him. Every time feels like the first time.

"You're close," he tells me, his voice thick. He's on edge too. I feel it. "Just let go," Draco urges and that's my breaking point.

His name rolls of my tongue in a delicate sigh, but my body rocks under him so aggressively it takes us both by surprise. Before I can say or do anything else, wave after wave of pleasure crash into me as I do just what he says and let go. I let go.

I let myself really feel him as he comes with me…

I let myself rub the back of his neck as he goes completely rigid against me…

I let myself really hear him as he cries out my name over and over with each wave of his own pleasure…and it's fantastic.


	11. Breathe

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and thanks for all the wonderful reviews of my last post. It's been 15 days since I posted this story and it already has well over 10,000 hits, which is exciting! I hope you all enjoy reading these next few chapters. I actually deleted my entire original chapter 11 and started from scratch because I didn't like it. So I hope you all enjoy reading these next few chapters and as usual, please read and review! Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_(Two months and one week later: October 20th)_

**Hermione Granger's name is in the centre of not one, but _two_ major gossip stories in the wizarding world this year. In what is the biggest shock to the gossip world since severing her five-year engagement with Quidditch Star, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, 25, has found solace in the arms of one of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelors…Draco Malfoy, 24. **

**The pair was exposed after they were seen showing public affection after Hermione Granger was attacked by Marcus Avery in Madam Hastens café and was later confirmed by the pair themselves._ "I've wanted to be with her for years, so I'm glad to say we've been dating two months tonight,"_ Draco Malfoy commented in an impromptu interview at a Muggle restaurant the night of the attack, their fingers laced together. When asked why they kept their relationship hidden from the public, Hermione Granger responded with, _"We wanted to just enjoy being together without the brouhaha that going public comes with. We just wanted it to be just the two of us for a while. No harm in that. We're two very private people." _**

**Will this last forever? Will this crash and burn like her last relationship? What will Ronald Weasley say when he returns to ****England****? Only time will tell…**

**However, I, Parvati Patil, gossip columnist extraordinaire, can safely say two things after my interview with this yummy duo two weeks ago: (1) after sitting with them for ten minutes, I can definitely say their relationship is as real as they come, and (2) judging from the way they look at each other when they think no one is watching, this is no passing fancy…**

* * *

The next two months at work are filled with questions and gossip, whispers and assertions. Being me for the first three weeks after the attack is no picnic.

Between dealing with snide comments from Draco's little admirers, the gossip stories sprouting about us not being a real couple, and questions of my professionalism, oh, and running the department while avoiding questions about my personal relationship…let's just say, the remainder of the second month of our relationship is strained to say the least.

Well, not between _us_. Everyone _else_ has a problem. We don't.

* * *

_(Two months ago)_

_We're quiet together, neither needing nor wanting to speak, each lost in our own thoughts. Draco's focus is split between the purple sky dotted with stars and his plate, while my attention is strictly on him. The only audible sounds are the clinking of ice cubes in our glasses…and it really is the small things with us. Simple things, like sitting on the back patio, looking up at the stars…_

"_You're staring, love," eyes still heavenward, "What is on your mind?"_

"_Do you have another piece of bread?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from him and focusing on his plate._

_His eyes move swiftly to mine, "Is that what is on your mind tonight?"_

_I snatch the piece of bread off his plate, and take a bite off it, "Of course not…it's just too much to really divulge with simple words."_

"_You could always try."_

_Sighing, I confess, "I just want to go back to when it was just you and me."_

"_It'll always be just you and me…always. No matter what people say and do. I hope you know that, right?"_

_Of course, I'm wearing a grin, "I do…but sometimes I wonder when this is all going to end."_

"_Worrying about something like that is pointless…especially considering the fact that I have no intentions of breaking up with you…not now, not ever."_

_Life seems to shift under my feet at a pace I can barely keep up with._

_It may be scary for someone else to hear those words directed at them, but not me. I already **know** he feels that way. I can feel it. I feel it in the familiarity of our embrace, the way our bodies come together, and the way my leg automatically twines over his and his slips between mine. I feel it in the way his arm slides beneath my neck and tilts my head just so. All if it is familiar and natural…_

…_it's the natural part that's scary. Two months and it's already natural to hold his hand, kiss him, hug him, wake in his arms, walk around him naked, feel his heartbeat race as we move together in the initial moments of touching… _

_Natural._

* * *

Draco kind of keeps me going when things are especially tough, doing exactly what he's always done…

…mirroring me, being my ice when I'm hot, my calm in the middle of bedlam…being everything to me.

You know, I have to admit it, but Parvati's article _really_ helped ease the rumours and whispers about the authenticity of our relationship…and the extremely high level of professionalism we uphold crushes the rest of the speculations and allegations.

* * *

_(Seven weeks ago)_

"_You're just using him to get his money." Some little nameless brunette witch sneers accusingly. _

_She can't be much older than twenty and I know she works in the Ministry, which is the only reason why I haven't drawn my wand. Appearing calm while I munch on my sandwich, I seethe inwardly as I look out the corner of my eye for Draco or Ginny. I don't see anyone…which isn't a good thing for this little witch. _

_I take a deep breath and rise out of my chair, getting face-to-face with her, speaking very darkly, "You better be lucky that I'm **not** a violent person…because if I were, I would've blasted you to __Timbuktu__ in a heartbeat."_

_The woman recoils, "W—"_

_Of course, I'm in full rant mode and I'm shaking my finger accordingly, "I don't know who you think you are, but I'll be damned if you sit in my face and make petty little…presumptions about my personal relationship…something you know nothing about. I'm not with Draco for his money…I don't need his bloody money. I have money of my own…" I pause and make a face, "and you know what? Why am I even arguing with you? You mean nothing to me. I seriously don't even know who the hell you are! To me, you're just a jealous little girl with nothing better to do with your life or time." _

"_You're such a—"_

"_I think it'd be unwise for you to finish that sentence," Draco's snooty voice interrupts. _

_My head darts over, spotting him at the doorway with Ginny, who is blazing mad. Her lips and hands are moving and waving rapidly and I detect Draco has her under a silencing charm to keep her from cursing this woman out in my honour…and I don't think she's realised it yet. _

_I smile internally. _

_Ginny really **is** a good friend. _

_Who knows what's coming out of her mouth, but I do know it's nothing nice…_

_The nameless witch freezes and blushes at the mere sight of him, "Mr. Malfoy…"she giggles. _

_But he doesn't appear to be in a giggling mood…and if he were, I'd be frightened. _

_He approaches me from the side, wrapping his arm around my waist with a serious look on his face. "Love, are you alright?" _

"_Yes." I find myself sinking into him, relaxing almost immediately. In my mind, I really want to keep on telling her off, but his hand rubbing the small of my back halts everything and subdues my anger. Damn it. _

_Draco then speaks to her very calmly, "I would appreciate it if you spread the words I'm about to tell you to everyone who has a problem with my relationship with Hermione. Anyone who speaks ill of my girlfriend will have hell to pay…by me. If you think this is a game and I'm joking then you have another thing coming. She's done nothing wrong. Not to you, not to anyone. She's not with me for my money, for the publicity…Merlin knows she hates the attention. She's not with me for any other insipid reason you people think of. She's with me because she wants to be, end of story."_

* * *

People are interesting.

I've come to this conclusion as a result of going public with my relationship with Draco.

After three weeks of hell, it all starts to calm down. I guess after seeing us together away from work, in Diagon Alley, with Harry and Ginny, I guess they finally accept we're the real deal.

People are also nosy.

When they're not looking at us funny, they want to know everything about our relationship and us…_especially_ when everything is none of their business.

I think the funniest thing people say to me is, _"You loathed him in school. Why date Draco Malfoy now?"_

To be honest, I can't answer the question…because the answer isn't something they can understand.

Why not Draco Malfoy? We're so similar: stubborn, intelligent, book-lovers, patient, and rational. He's loyal to me, our values are similar, he's honest, my friends like him, he's doting, he treats me like I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him, he makes me laugh when I want to cry, and he keeps me from going insane…but that's just scratching the surface.

It's the little things, really.

* * *

_(A month in a half ago)_

_It's four in the morning when I'm being awakened by a tickling on my leg. _

_Warily and still exhausted from great sex, I open my eyes to see Draco, his head propped on one hand, smiling down at me, while his other hand trails down my leg. _

_Of course, I manage a weak smile. I want sleep, but that want rivals the want of him to not ever stop touching me like this, "Yes?"_

_Smiles, his fingers move up and graze my bare shoulder, "I was watching you sleep, but then I got tired and decided to wake you up."_

"_Draco," I look at the clock, "its __4:12__ in the morning, what are **you** doing up?" I ask, amused, feeling the hairs on my arms raise from his touch._

"_Let's get breakfast."_

_Staring at him strangely, Draco is not one for little whims and random bursts of energy in the middle of the night. Hell, he **hates** mornings. _

_I'm sure if he ever has his way, he won't come to work until at least __11AM__. I look at the clock again, just to make sure, "Its __4:13__ in the morning now."_

_His hands play with curls splayed over my pillow, "So?"_

"_So," I begin, smirking, "It's __4:13__ in the morning…and you don't eat breakfast."_

"_It **is** the most important meal of the day…"_

"_That you don't eat." I remind him again, this time with a small confused chuckle._

"_Well, there's no time to start like the present."_

* * *

When I'm reading on the couch, I feel whole when he snuggles with me and drags the blanket over us, sometimes I read aloud, sometimes he does, sometimes he reads over my shoulder (something I used to hate), sometimes he even watches me read. We're perfectly at ease in silence and perfectly content doing nothing.

He runs fingers through my hair when I'm laying on him and it makes me so relaxed it puts me to sleep every time.

On most days, I yank on my hair in frustration, and Draco pulls my hand away and runs his fingers through it.

When I bite my lip, he stops me and kisses me instead…no matter where we are.

And sometimes I gaze at myself in the bathroom mirror, assessing and scrutinizing myself, but Draco always drags me away, stares into my eyes, and tells me I'm beautiful as he kisses me…from head to toe until I believe him. I already do, but I love it when he ravishes me.

Whenever we argue (and it happens quite frequently because he can still be a prat and I'm obstinate), I want to be irritated with him because he's so calm while I rant like a maniac. Sometimes I want to walk away when a smile breaks across his face in the middle of a fight, but I can't find it in me to get angry, instead, I'm smiling back. We talk through our issues like adults and I no longer yell to get my point across. I'm one step further on the road to maturity…

* * *

_(Last month)_

"_Something wrong with you, Malfoy?" I glance sideways at him from my position at the fireplace. "Did you swallow your tongue or something? I asked you a bloody question." I remind him heatedly._

"_I heard you, Granger, but I don't feel the need to respond," he replies casually._

_Incensed, "You're the one who can't answer a goddamn question."_

"_Yeah, well I'd respond better if you didn't scream at me for fifteen minutes about how I am an arrogant prat because I called you a snob…which I **didn't**. I just said that you **can** be a bit snobbish."_

_Frowning, I fold my arms, "Just like you can be an arrogant fool."_

"_Well, I don't disagree with you on that one…at least I admit my faults, Hermione. I don't spend my life trying to convince myself that I'm something that I'm not. I am arrogant, I am a prat, I am stubborn, completely temperamental, and I have selfish tendencies. I have my own preferences and prejudices…but I can admit it!"_

"_Oh, and those are such **redeeming** qualities—"_

"_Get over yourself, Hermione. You think you've got rays of perfection shooting from your arse, that you're so above everything that resembles immaturity, well newsflash, Hermione, you're not. You're just like everyone else. You look down on people. You turn your nose up. You talk about people. You gossip. Face it…you're no different or better than anyone."_

"_I admit it!" I exclaim angrily, "I'm not perfect, but I try to work on my imperfections. You, on the other hand, don't give a damn! You walk around like you're great when you're just as messed up as everyone else. You talk about how Harry has daddy issues because he grew up without one when you have daddy issues of your own!"_

_He gets up and starts to walk into the kitchen._

"_You don't get the right to walk away!" I call after him, "Let's talk about this, Draco—it'll be good for you."_

_Draco snaps, coolness gone, "Would you just shut up! Where do you get off thinking you're so bloody noble that you can talk to me about things you don't have a clue about?"_

"_Around the same place you get off having the nerve to call me a snob! You don't know a damn thing about me or why I act that way! You know nothing of my insecurities, my problems, or the battles I fight inside," I'm nearly in tears from yelling, "Everyone have this image of me from school, this snobbish, little know-it-all control freak who thinks she's so above everyone and everything, well, I'm not like that!" _

_Tears roll down my face, I'm trying not to lose it, but I am, rapidly. _

"_Everyday…everyday I question myself, my decisions, my purpose, my life…everyday. This snob you see it's just a defence mechanism to cover just how apprehensive I really am…so you don't know everything about me, Draco!"_

_I don't hear him move, but I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. I want to pull away. I want to hex him for making me admit my lack of perfection, but I don't. I just let him hold me while I cry from the truth and whisper in my ear, "I'm sorry…"_

* * *

As time passes, I feel his trust in me swell.

We'll be lying in bed, lounging on the couch, sitting at dinner, walking to the car from Harry and Ginny's, sitting in my office after work, waiting for a movie to start, or doing something completely mundane and he'll say something extremely personal, something I never knew before…and then he'll move on, as if he hadn't said a word at all.

I don't ever press it, or dive deeper…for the most part.

Draco is _extremely_ private so I'm just happy he shares pieces of himself with me. I just take the information I receive and process it on my own. I think it's his way to opening up to me, telling me that he trusts me implicitly, and I'll take it any way I can. When he's ready, he'll go into detail, I'm sure of it.

* * *

_(Three weeks ago)_

_Cuddling against his side as we sit in front of a beautiful fountain, I wrap one arm around his stomach and close my eyes for just a moment. I swear if I didn't hear his slow intake of air, I would've never heard his next words…_

"_I think everything changed when my mother was murdered. I did everything I could to protect her, but in the end…I realised that no matter how much control you think you have over a situation, some things are completely out of your hands…but it still didn't make me feel any better."_

_For the first time, I speak, "You shouldn't blame yourself."_

"_Usually, I don't, but sometimes…" his voice trails off and he holds me tighter, kissing my hair._

_I say nothing more._

* * *

It never fails, when he kisses me, I have to steady myself and hold on to him because he makes my heart race and my knees weaken. I'm with him, without walls, insecurities, or control and I give myself to him completely…every time.

He wants me, all of me, weaknesses, stubbornness, insecurities, craziness, and all…

…so I lean on him because I've never fully depended on anything or anyone and I like how it feels.

* * *

_(Two weeks ago)_

"_Are you ready to go?"_

_I don't look up from the files I'm studying because he'll see the tears in my eyes, the valiant attempt not to cry around him after a particularly rough and stressful day. Everything that could've gone wrong has and the weight is squarely on my shoulders. I know. Sometimes I try too hard to be perfect. I try so hard to make things go my way; and when they don't I take it hardest. _

_So instead of looking up, I scribble furiously on a piece of parchment, hoping he'll go away before I break down._

"_Hermione," his voice is soft, "Put the quill down and let's go." I hear him move towards my desk and I tense._

"_It's not done," I look up, tears blurring my vision. "It's not done!" _

_Draco presses a hand on my shoulder when I bury my head in my hands, "Let's go. You've had a rough day and you need to calm down and relax. It'll be here Monday…we'll sort through it together, but right now, let's go home. I'll cook you dinner, give you a massage, we'll watch a movie, and we'll talk, does that sound good to you?"_

_Helplessly, I nod. It doesn't sound good, it's bloody perfect. _

"…_tomorrow we'll go to see the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match at Hogwarts with Harry and Ginny…"_

_Slowly, he helps me out the chair and with a wave of his wand I'm ready for the cool September night. I accept his warm kiss, closing my eyes, feeling completely drained…but not like before. I lean against him, drawing his strength and support in. _

_His arms encircle me and I feel a strange sense of peace overwhelm me. _

_Pulling back, he wipes the tears from my eyes, grips my hand tightly, and Apparates us home. _

* * *

He understands me. When I talk in circles, I don't know _how_, but he understands. When I go on passionate rants about the rights of house elves, how Arithmancy should be a required subject, and how all first years should be required to read _Hogwarts: A History _because it's a very informative book, he listens with a smirk on his face. He likes to see me exasperated and slightly flushed.

Though he may not always agree, he gets me… and he tells me to shut up every now and then.

As time continues to pass, he talks about everything. In bits and pieces, he opens himself to me like a novel and I'm sucked into him, listening and putting the pieces of his life together. He talks about his mother, the kind of woman she was and the life she lived. He talks about his father, which is a touchy subject for him even after four years. He talks about the horrors of his childhood, why he became an Auror, when he stopped being a pretentious bigot, everything…and I just listen.

He talks calmly about how the second war changed him, talks about his year with Voldemort, his fears of talking to the only maternal aunt he has (Teddy's grandmother), and how he hates that people still compare him to his father, no matter what good he's done.

I love his honesty, his spirit, his heart, and his…_everything_.

I love that he's man enough to show me his weaker side.

I love that he can laugh about his past when most would cry.

I love that he's so humble, so pensive, so composed and collected.

I love that he calms me, ravishes me, and makes me feel important…

…and well, I'm sure I love _him_.

I don't know what it feels like to give birth or be on drugs, but it must be close to the feelings I have for Draco. It's this incredible high, sometimes painful, but so fulfilling and so worth it…head-to-toe rush of feeling that leaves me breathless and dizzy. Merlin, if someone told me that this is what love feels like I would've dumped Ron a long time ago because my feelings for him never came close.

I love Draco, as irrational as it may be. I love him, even though we haven't been together long. _I love him._ It's senseless. It's crazy. It's completely amazing. And I don't regret my feelings. Not for anything in the world.

* * *

_(Five weeks ago)_

_He's staring out the window when I realise I love him. _

_I'm lying under the covers, naked and warm…_

…_Draco is standing and staring, just staring…not staring at anything in particular. And I stare too…I stare, wondering just how long I've been in love with him and if I should complicate us by telling him. _

_Oh, it doesn't matter. Not really anyway. I really shouldn't be in love with him. It's too soon. But when I really think about it…if it's right, what does it matter how long it takes? My entire relationship with Draco has moved too fast. In three months, we've had sex countless times, he practically lives in my house on the weekends, we confide in each other, he tells me I'm his best friend, we've gone on vacation together, and countless other things…but its okay, because I know this is the right thing. It's okay because he makes sure I know that our relationship isn't completely based on sex. And it's okay because I know this is where I'm supposed to be… _

…_I also know I've never been contented with the thought of loving someone until I fell in love with him._

_So with that confidence, I let all the other negative thoughts fall by the wayside and get out of bed, approaching him from behind, slowly, lovingly resting my cheek against his centre of his back as my arms find their way around his waist. He's wearing nothing except night pants and his skin feels wonderful against mine. I replace my cheek with a small kiss, _

"_What are you still up for? It's late."_

_I shouldn't have asked this. I know what he's doing. He gets like this sometimes in the middle of the night, when he's thinking too much and not ready to settle in for the night. I don't have that problem as much as he does. I sleep just fine until he gets up..._

"_Just a lot on my mind," he mumbles gently, turning in my embrace, tilting my chin upwards to look in his eyes._

"_Care to share?" I ask, smiling._

_His lips graze mine just so, "One day…one day I will," he whispers, "but for now, I want you…"_

* * *

My relationship with him is completely different from any other relationship I've ever had. Draco isn't pushy and understands that if I want him to know, I'll tell him…and I always do. He doesn't make decisions without my input, doesn't derive any pleasure from correcting my mistakes, nor does he gape when I don't have answers.

He knows I'm human and doesn't ask for more than I can give. He accepts responsibility for his mistakes and doesn't blame shift. Draco _apologises_ when he's wrong…and sometimes when he's right. Draco doesn't groan when I say something intelligent, doesn't stop me when I want to spend the night reading, and doesn't call me baby…because I _hate_ being called baby.

We honestly have fun together.

I take him to movies and plays. He takes me to Quidditch matches, parties, and the airport because he loves to fly. He gets these whims and we'll fly somewhere for the weekend. I never know where we're going before we get there and it's exhilarating. We've been to Greece, Morocco, Austria, Italy, and Spain. I look _forward_ to Fridays now because I never know what that weekend will bring. I take him to Muggle American football games…and let's just say that as soon as he learns the point of the game, he's shouting with the rest of them. It's hilarious. After two months of trying, he_ finally_ convinces me to get on his broomstick. I still don't like flying, but it's a little better with him.

I taught him how to ski. He took me back to Hogwarts for a day and we spent the day, walking the grounds, talking about our memories…reliving the day I punched him with laughter. I took him to an amusement park where we rode the rides all day. He won me a teddy bear, although I _really_ think he confounded the girl when she wasn't looking so she'd give me the biggest teddy bear. I don't have the proof, but I _know_ he did…sneaky little Slytherin ferret.

* * *

_(Last week)_

"_He's changed," Melissa says one night while we're working on files. Draco just left to get dinner for us because we all know it's going to be a late night. _

_When she tries to hand him a few galleons, he just laughs and shakes his head._

"_What do you mean?" I ask absently._

_Shrugging, she flicks her wand and puts away a box of files we just finished, "He's just different, that's all. It's nothing ghastly…it's rather quite good, actually. He just doesn't seem so restless anymore. He doesn't spit snide comments as much anymore…he just seems content."_

_To be honest, I didn't know Melissa was so observant._

"…_you're different too."_

_My eyebrow raises when I meet her eyes, "I am?"_

"_Yes. You're more relaxed, more personable, more approachable…you've done **wonders** to this place. The party you guys threw for the department after we broke the __Sumter__ case was amazing. I don't think I've ever had so much fun at an office party. Stella says she hasn't ever seen you this happy, not since you started working here. You look content too."_

_I hadn't realised the changes I've made in the past four months…nor have I ever talked to Melissa this much. _

_Maybe I need to invite her over for dinner sometimes._

_She speaks up again, "So I'm dying to know…what is it feel like to be with Draco?"_

_For a second, I don't know what to say, because there are so many answers..._

_I want to tell her it's like learning a complicated spell for the first time, worth the time and invigorating. I want to tell her it's like finding peace when your world is so chaotic. I want to tell her it's like skydiving for the first time; you're a bundle of nerves and fear right up until your jump from the plane. The high that follows the jump is incredible. I want to tell her it's like swearing all your life you hated carrots and then trying them for the first time and realizing they're the best food **ever.**_

_I want to tell her so much so instead I reply, "It's...dangerous…kind of like slow dancing in a burning room."_

_See, I know it's dangerous...to feel so much, so deeply for someone after such a short period of time, but I can't help it. I know we could both potentially get hurt, but I don't care, not at all. If I never loved anyone else ever again, I'd be okay because it seems like nothing will ever be better than this. And even though it sometimes feels as if the world is crashing all around us…the world can do whatever the hell it wants, as long as he's right here with me. It's a complicated way of thinking about our relationship…believe me, I know. _

"_Do you think you two are meant for each other?"_

_I shrug, "Maybe…"_

* * *

Four months isn't a lot of time to know these things for certain.

He doesn't know what tomorrow holds and I don't know either…I've come to the conclusion that it's okay to not know everything for once…

"You know, I work really hard to get you relaxed…and _now_ you're tense again," warm, strong hands massage my bare shoulders, snapping me from my thoughts. My eyes focus on the mirror, smirking timidly at Draco. I didn't even hear him come in the bathroom. I wonder how long I've been standing here in my towel, gazing into space, dreamily.

"I have ever reason in the world to be."

Ron is coming back home today after nearly two months in Greece, training for Quiddich and today is his welcome-home dinner. Ron sent the invitation just two days ago…along with his letter.

**Hermione,**

**Being away from everything has given me time to think and has put everything into perspective for me. Even though I didn't mean to, I hurt you. I'm selfish in my thinking and my actions. Yes, I cheated on you and I feel like a giant arse for it, but what's done is done and I can't take it back no matter how hard I try. I did it on impulse. I did it without even thinking about you. I'm sorry…and I know you may never forgive me, but I want to be your friend again. I really miss being your friend. I love you. I love you more now than I ever did before. To be honest, I think I'll always love you…and when you're ready, when you forgive me, I'll be more than willing to start fresh. Maybe I can get you to fall back in love with me again. We could make it work this time. You may not believe in destiny, but I really think we're destined to be together. I'm coming home in two days, mum is throwing a welcome home party and you're more than welcome to come...as a friend. **

**Ron Weasley.**

See why I'm tense?

He's practically _waiting_ for me to take him back and I have already moved on…with no plans on going back.

I just want to be friends again. I just miss having him as my friend.

So I start to tell him about everything in a letter, but everyone advises against it.

* * *

_(Yesterday)_

"_Telling him you've moved on is a face-to-face conversation," Ginny says when I show her the letter over lunch the next day. _

_Draco rolls his eyes, but agrees…reluctantly._

"_You **have** to tell him about Draco tomorrow…after dinner. He doesn't get the news down there. Their captain thinks it's distracting so he has no clue what's going on here."_

_He sips his tea and shakes his head, "That's a good idea, Ginny, but there **is** a problem…your mother invited **me** to the dinner—"_

_I finish his sentence, "—and since your mum is insisting he come, Ron will want an explanation of why Draco is there before dinner." _

_Ginny looks back and forth between us, "Okay, you two have to stop that sentence-finishing thing. It's creepy."_

* * *

Everyone else knows about us, except Ron…at Draco's insisting we arrange to meet my parents at their favourite little Thai restaurant. I'm a nervous wreck at first, but when I see him wringing his hands under the table and picking at the hem of his jacket, his tell-tale nervous habits, it instantly relaxes me…and when I look at him and smile, he relaxes too. After dinner, we go for ice-cream.

* * *

_(Last month)_

_Mum stands next to me while they make my ice-cream, pretending to look interested in the ice-cream making process, while dad and Draco sit at the table, discussing Muggle politics (something I never expected him to care much about)._

"…_are you sure this is the same boy from school who used to tease you?"_

_Smirking, I look back at him only to find his eyes on mine, he gives me a small smile and I smile back. No, he isn't the same boy who used to call me a Mudblood and taunted me for six years, "People change."_

"_I like him…I like the two of you together…you two compliment each other very well and his affection for you is unmistakable."_

_Relieved, I grin, "I'm glad you like him mum…because I think I love him."_

* * *

The Weasleys find out when I bring him to Sunday brunch. It's the first time I've seen them since Ron and I got into a row at the dinner table shortly after we broke up. Mrs. Weasley smiles sorrowfully when I introduce him as my new boyfriend. She read the Witch Weekly article and thought it was made up...I think she hoped it was made up...and I really think she was really looking forward to being my mother-in-law.

Trust me, the feeling was mutual.

* * *

_(Two weeks ago)_

_From the corner of my eye, I spot George and Draco standing awkwardly next to each other for a minute until George says, "So…I've always wanted to ask you this question?" George starts slowly._

"_Well, what is it?"_

"_How did it feel to be the "Amazing Bouncing Ferret" for five minutes?" _

_Draco bursts out laughing. _

* * *

I never knew Draco was so well-rounded until that day.

Percy is familiar with him and greets him warmly before he starts talking about work…and when I rescue him, he kisses me as a thank you. He plays tells stories and plays games with little Victorie and Teddy, chats with Bill and Fleur, takes James off Ginny's hands while she helps her mum cook, plays a friendly game of Quidditch with all those who can, and he manages to show Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that he's not the same boy from Hogwarts.

Every time we go over there, he pulls it off flawlessly…I spend most of my days watching him in awe.

* * *

_(Last week)_

_Draco enters the kitchen in the middle of Mrs. Weasley's monologue about Ron's latest letter. His hair slightly awry, shirt un-tucked, grass stains on both legs of his khakis, and this huge dirt smear that vaguely looks like a handprint on his shoulder…and he couldn't look better to me. _

_In his arms is a sleeping James, gripping his shirt in his chubby fists…my heart leaps in my throat when he adjusts the baby in his arms. With a small, "shh" and some additional rocking, he ensures the baby stays asleep. Draco looks totally comfortable with a baby in his arms and for a minute there I understand what Ginny means when she speaks of a biological clock. Mine starts to tick and my heart starts to race._

_Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley look up from their tea and offer him various degrees of a smile: Mrs. Weasley's being the widest. A few minutes later, there's a quiet exchange of baby James from a gentle Draco to a relieved mother, who probably won't have to spend another night up with a fussy baby. _

"_Teddy and Victorie are tucked away in bed…and finally asleep." He announces softly, sitting next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. _

_Mrs. Weasley conjures him up a cup of tea and smiles, "Thank you so much, Draco…I don't think I could've gotten them asleep on my own."_

"_It's no problem…"_

* * *

Warm lips press against my collar bone, bringing me back to the present again. I'm so warm and content right now.

His arms are comfortably wrapped around me and I relax against him, "I lost you again," his voice is soft, "where did you go?"

Sighing, "I'm just thinking about the past couple of months…and today."

"We'll make it through today just like we made it through the meet and greets," he smiles.

My next words are soft, "…you really surprised me."

"I've been known to do that."

Shooting him a playful look, "You arrogant ferret."

He smiles and kisses the top of my head, inhaling, "You smell good."

Smirking, I turn in his embrace, "Showers have been known to do that."

After pilfering a once over, I realise Draco, as per usual, looks jumpable today.

Slightly tanned skin (from our weekend getaway to a gorgeous Lisbon last week) with bed hair I'm sure he spent fifteen minutes trying to perfect, dark boot fit jeans, the collar of the bottom of white button-up peeks out of a brown cashmere sweater vest. The button up is a little longer than the sweater vest and it peeks out from underneath it. Of course, he's going to wear a brown blazer, but right now it's lying on my bed. If we weren't already dressed, I'd probably-

"Don't look at me like that," his voice is hoarse.

Innocently, "Like what?"

"Stupid isn't your colour, Granger," Draco growls, pressing me against the bathroom counter…


	12. Hallelujah

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything...except my ideas...because if she did, that would be creepy.

Author's Note: please read and review! Thanks...oh, and there's a smut warning on the beginning of this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

_(A moment later)_

The proximity of him makes me hot all over…like lighting a torch.

"You're right," I loosen the top of the towel, "I want you."

The towel hitting the floor is equivalent to a releasing of the snitch to start a Quidditch match. His lips are on mine in flash, lips moving over mine expertly. I accept him, loving that his kisses skip the nice and delicate stage and go right to being aggressive, biting and sucking deliciously at my neck and shoulders. Draco's hands are at my waist, one sliding down and around to cup my arse as he pulls me forward slightly to press against him.

He's hot and ready, and this want of him fills me like a tidal wave…it takes every fibre of my being to keep from moaning in his mouth. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and tugs playfully before letting go.

Next, his clothes are coming off in record time and it's a good thing too because I can't, no, I _won't_ wait. Shirt and pants and vests and whatever else flies off, I don't care where they go, I don't care about anything at the moment. Only his lips on mine. Only his hand throwing my robe aside. Only…damn, everything about him.

Somehow he puts his hands on his wand, mumbles a quick protection spell. No kids, not today at least, thank you very much. The telephone starts ringing and try as I may I can't ignore it and immerse myself in everything that's happening right now.

"Fuck that phone," I growl and before he can say anything else, I snatch his wand and blast the offending phone into a million pieces.

In a flash, I perch myself on the marbled counter of the sink and pull him to me, wrapping my legs around him. Draco tries to tease me, just for a bit, but I'm in no mood to be teased, I'm only in the mood to get shagged...hard, "Don't make me wait anymore," I mumble, my voice low and strained as I tilt my hips to receive him. He's always like this when I'm rushing. I think he likes seeing me unruly and horny…the feeling is mutual.

He's right there, but going so slow, too slow…just so damn slow.

"_Now!_" I plead firmly, writhing to get him inside. All I accomplish is getting myself more and more excited as he bumps into my sensitive clitoris.

I don't know what possesses me, drives me, other than the uncontrollable urge to have him inside me.

"Stop moving," Draco says huskily, "I can't shag you if you're moving already," he puts one arm low around my back, while the other braces him against the mirror. Quickly, he clenches me with that one hand, hard, behind the waist to make me be still.

And in one violent thrust he's inside me.

Merlin, this _never_ gets old.

"Oh fuck yes," I murmur, my arms around his shoulders, fingers tangled in his hair. He's saying something as he shags me marvellously, but it's lost to me because his lips are everywhere, on mine, my neck, and my shoulder…shit, _everywhere_. His lips make me shudder just as much as the movement of our bodies, this push and pull that leaves my body shivering from the sensations. This is going to be too quick, I feel it building already. My legs wrap around Draco's body better, giving him free reign and control over me.

Of course, he takes it, thrusting hard and fast like mad. A loud moan escapes my lips. He's whispering in my ear, but everything is incoherent, a mix of sighs and moans and words I don't understand as his hips undulates against me just right. Just how I need it. As if he's completely out of his control, Draco's fingers dig in my back, my arse, as he helps me lift to meet each one of his sharp, short strokes. It's happening so fast, the pleasure rising is us both, and there's no stopping, waiting, thinking, speaking, nothing.

My teeth dig into the soft skin where his neck meets his shoulder and a high-pitched whine comes from somewhere I don't even know, but I do know it's mine.

His hips are steady hitting the counter and I'm sure it doesn't feel good, "Fuck," he mutters, wraps his hands around my waist tighter, and lifts me up, turning, bumping me into the wall, mumbling an apology. I don't care. What wall? All that exists is me and him…not to mention this incredible shag.

I'm reminded of our first time in my office and the mere thought of it makes me crazy, gripping onto him, meeting his drives. He falters for a moment, but I don't stop the short and brutal thrusts.

Draco throws his head back in ecstasy, moaning loud as hell, "Hermione, slow down," his voice is throaty and his entire body is shaking harder than ever before, "I-I," he gasps when I buck down particularly hard. "Can't hold on!"

Neither can I…I want to tell him this, but I can't speak in complete sentences. I'm not going to make it. My toes curl, muscles tense, and I still hear that high-pitched, wild moan. I still don't know where it's coming from. I bite down on his shoulder to stop myself from screaming because if I do, the entire neighbourhood will be able to hear me.

"Stop! Stop! Too fast!" His voice is desperate, and I know he's one step from losing his mind from the movement of my hips, the speed of my thrusts.

Closing my eyes tightly, I bury my face in his neck, moving against him as hard as I can, "I-I can't stop."

All of a sudden, his arms wrap around me tightly and he burrows himself inside me, giving up on holding back and pumping with no abandon, meeting my thrusts almost savagely. I bite down harder, "Oh, shit, shit, shit…"

"_Hermione!_" I feel his orgasm hit him and it's a brutal one. Draco actually_ yells_ and nearly drops me, but somehow, by some miracle, he doesn't, instead he keeps shagging the hell out of me through his orgasm. He hisses and moans very gruffly, "Come, right now."

I do.

My orgasm hits me full force, takes the breath right out of me and there's no way to stop it. I just come ferociously, screaming, arms and legs locked and frozen on him, quaking and whimpering. Weakly, he sinks us down to the floor. Just the feel of him helps me through this orgasm that's long and surging, the orgasm that obliterates every thought in my mind.

It's a drawn out sensation I've never felt before; has no beginning or ending, it just fades into an emotional quiet we share.

* * *

_(Four hours later)_

After ravishing each other again on the floor and once more in the shower, we finally arrive at the Burrow…early.

It's an uncommonly nice day in October and I dress accordingly. Smoothing down my knee-length black skirt and quarter-length cream shirt with little black designs on the front, I pull nervously on my curls as we amble up the walkway, hand-in-hand.

Of course, Draco stops me from tugging my hair out with a kiss on the hand that's entwined with his.

He knows I'm edgy, which is why we drove and didn't take a portkey or floo. The ride was quiet; he kept one hand on my knee as I sped down the road.

"_Everything is going to be fine,"_ he kept saying with comforting touches that made me warm.

Merlin, I hope he's right…but I'm doubtful.

I know Ron. I also know that I don't even want to do this, not today, but Mrs. Weasley _insists_ that I bring Draco to dinner because she really likes him…and since Draco's here, there's no sense in not telling Ron about us. He needs to know. I just wish I could hold back until the time is right…the day after never sounds good. Maybe then he won't freak out.

"You look beautiful," Draco whispers, tucking my curls behind my ears with his free hand.

I smile for the first time since we left my house, "Thanks."

The door flies open before we can get there and a proudly beaming Harry comes out carrying a chubby, babbling eight-month-old James. The sight of Harry carrying a baby, _his baby_, makes me grin.

"Hey!" he exclaims, "You're just in time. Ron will be arriving in fifteen minutes by Portkey."

I hug him and take James, cradling him in my arms.

"Oh, you've gotten so big! Yes you have," I raise him over my head; he giggles excitedly when I bring him back into my arms.

_I could get used to this,_ the thought shocks me to the core, but I've embraced the truth now.

Reading stories and running around with Teddy and Victorie, holding and rocking James to sleep, healing "boo-boo's", and watching the kids interact makes me want to be a mother more...well, more than anything. All I can think about these days is having a child. All I can think about is what _my_ child will look like, what _my_ child may do when they grow up, what house _my_ child will be in at Hogwarts, what books _my_ child will like, how I will hold _my_ child, how I will rock _my_ child to sleep at night, how I will send _my_ child to my parents house so they can dote on them…

James' laughter breaks me from my thoughts.

He _really_ likes to be power dunked, but I don't like to do it outside.

James starts babbling enthusiastically and playing with my necklace, fascinated, and I let him because it has an anti-breaking charm on it.

Looking over, I notice Harry is talking to Draco…and he's not paying much attention. Instead he's looking at me with a strange, almost…just an odd look on his face. "Are you okay?"

Draco nods wordlessly; I kiss his cheek, and take James inside. They follow me in the house a few minutes later.

I'm standing in the dining room chatting with George, who's telling me about some new products he came up with and Ginny, who's laughing.

When George sees Draco, a wicked smile spreads across his face, "Well, today _just_ got a little bit more interesting."

I know exactly what he's talking about. It's the day of the set wedding date between Ron and me…and here I am, bringing Draco here today. Honestly, I didn't realise the significance of today until Draco said something about wanting to take me to Sicily for _our_ six month anniversary. I almost wrecked the damn car. He spent ten minutes trying to calm me down and drove the rest of the way.

Before I can give a stiff warning to George, Teddy, whose hair turns green when he sees Draco, and little blonde Victorie come running in the room, loud. They launch themselves at Draco, knocking him off balance; he lands on his arse with a small, _"Oof!"_

I burst out laughing along with everyone else, but inside my heart swells when I see how good he is with them.

He shoots me a wicked smile before picking up both children effortlessly, like a sack of potatoes, "Alright you two," He says, walking towards the back door, "Who wants to be first to fly with me on my broom?"

Both their hands shoot up, "Me! Me! I do!"

Draco sits them down on the ground, "Hide and seek, the last one found gets to ride first. You have to hide outside though," he looks at Teddy, "and absolutely _no_ cheating."

"Aww, man!" the six-year-old whines.

Five-year-old, Victorie, points and laughs, "Ha, ha!"

Draco closes his eyes, "One…"

The kids scramble out the door. He opens his eyes, smiles at me, and goes outside to resume counting.

"Is 'ze a good flyer?" Fleur, her English is considerably better these days, looks worried.

"One of the best," Harry assures.

After handing James back to his father, Ginny and I spend the next ten minutes helping the excited Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, fixing all of Ron's favourite dishes. A few quiet minutes pass, leaving us standing around, waiting for everything to finish cooking.

She grins at me, "You look radiant. I really like the tamed curls look. You look beautiful."

I blush, yes, I _feel_ radiant, "Thanks."

Mrs. Weasley peeks out the kitchen for a minute, "Where's Draco? I thought I specifically told you to bring—"

Replying, "He's outside playing with Victorie and Teddy."

She smiles very motherly, "They've been waiting for him all day."

Ginny nods in agreement, "I could hardly get Teddy dressed this morning because all he wanted to do was run downstairs to see if he was here yet. Fleur said Victorie was just as bad."

We look out the window, spotting Draco sneaking up and finding Teddy in his hiding spot…and Victorie running from hers triumphantly. Teddy pouts, his hair turns red, and Draco swings his around until he cheers up. He goes to the garage to grab a broom.

"If someone told me my 4th year that Malfoy would be good with kids," Ginny shakes her head, "I would've committed them to St. Mungo's because _clearly_ they're having a psychotic break."

Mrs. Weasley laughs. I smile.

Harry bursts in, "He's here."

* * *

_(Ten minutes later)_

I'm the last one to leave the kitchen, hanging around just a little bit longer to give Ron time with his family before I make an appearance.

With my arms folded, I watch Draco fly around the backyard with Victorie, never going above five or six feet off the ground. She looks thrilled.

For the first time since this overwhelming want to have children flooded me, I allow myself to entertain the thought of having children with him. To be honest, I can't see myself having kids with anyone else. I love him. I really think I want to spend the rest of my life with Draco, but I think it's too early to think about marriage. It's only been about four and a half months, but I really in my heart, believe he's it.

I don't even know if he feels the same way I do, but I don't care now. These things take some time.

He's a great boyfriend, he'll be a great husband, and he'll be a great father. He's so determined to separate himself from his background, so determined _not_ to be the kind of man or _father_ Lucius was to him. I just know he won't be. I just know he'll be perfect…and this knowledge makes my own self-confidence swell.

I'm so confident of this, so confident I'll make a good mother, it's startling. I was never this confident with Ron, but now I know why. I didn't love him so the thought of having children with someone I didn't love really made me not desire to become a mother at all. And so it wasn't even because I was afraid of messing them up, it was because—

Ginny interrupts my thoughts, "Hermione."

I turn around, "Yes?"

"C'mon." She takes my hand and leads me out.

Everyone's sitting around the table, talking to Ron, asking him questions, and telling him how much they missed him. He's smiling radiantly, looks like he's extremely happy, and youthful. Looking at him now reminds me of the time before we started dating…that is, until he notices me standing next to his sister, holding one hand and quietly smoothing down my skirt with the other. The look on his face now is one I recognize; it's a mix of lust, love, and awe…and I don't ever want to see him look like this again.

"Hermione…you look," he stammers, rising from his seat and walking to me. He hands James to Mrs. Weasley, nearly breaks a water goblet, bumps into George and Harry, and totally ignores his mother's doting, "_stunning_."

"Thanks," I smile politely, "You look good too."

Ron hugs me awkwardly…or maybe I feel awkward because he hugs me.

The room falls into a pregnant silence. He takes a deep breath and holds on longer than expected. Uneasy with his grip on me, I'm the first to pull away, stepping back and turning away, "It's good to have you back…I'll go check on the food," turning on my heels, I head back into the kitchen, slipping back into the apron and checking the stove.

With a wave of my wand, I pull the chicken out and start boiling the potatoes.

I'm getting better at cooking charms and I'm in such a trance for I don't know how long until I hear someone enter the room.

"I see you got my letter."

Nearly losing my concentration, I almost drop one of the kidney pies I'm levitating, but I manage to hold on to it before placing it on the countertop.

Slowly, I turn around to see Ron standing there, "Yes, I did."

"I'm glad you came…why didn't you write back?"

Lying, "I was busy, sorry."

Nodding understandingly, "It's okay," I try to step past him, but he blocks my way, studying me closely, "You look different…_better_. Your hair is curly…you look wonderful."

"Thanks, Ron."

"We need to talk, Hermione."

I look him in the eyes, "Yes, as a matter of fact, we do, but I hardly think this is the time…or the place, you've only just arrived." From the corner of my eye, I see Draco flying around with Teddy while Victorie picks flowers, probably to make a crown.

She does that a lot. I smile to myself, secretly wonder what my daughter would be and look like. Will she have blonde hair like her father or brown like mine? Will she have his cheeks? My smile? His eyes? My nose? Will her hair be bushy? Merlin, I hope not. I do know she'll be brilliant and stubborn, that's for certain…

"…this is the perfect time, and I think that you coming here tells me what I need to know," Ron snaps me from my daydream; he's on bended knee…bloody hell.

Finding my voice, "_What_—"

"I love you. I can't waste one more minute around you without knowing that you're mine. I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you just how much I really love you…"

He is _not_ about to propose again. "Ron, stop. Don't do say any—"

"Just hear me out. I had this speech—"

"_Stop!_"

"Listen, Hermione!" He is_ not_ about to—"Marry me?"

Staring at him with wide eyes, my answer flies from my mouth before I have a chance to soften it, "Ronald Weasley, are you bloody mad? Of _course_ I can't marry you…and you know why: it's absurd, rash, and not to mention, I ended our last engagement."

His face flushes bright red and he gets off his knee, "Why not? Why won't you marry me?"

"I don't love you," I tell him simply, "_I.__ Do. Not. Love. You._" I repeat slowly, "I told you that the night I caught you."

"But you were angry that I cheated with—"

"No, I wasn't. Not at your infidelity…but because you tried to blame _me_ for your actions—"

"I did not—"

"Don't. Start." Irritated, I feel my voice start to rise, "Don't you _dare_ start this with me now. I don't even want to discuss this nonsensical topic anymore. I can't marry you. I _won't_ marry you. Not for all the galleons in the world."

"I made a mistake, Hermione, one mistake…I thought you forgave me."

"And I did!" I stomp my foot, feeling frustration and anger increasing. It's a foreign feeling because I haven't been truly angry in so long, "But you're a git if you think I can forget this fast and throw myself back into your arms. Did you honestly think it would happen that way?" He looks guilty, my eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh, Merlin, you _did!_ Wow, you thought that after six months I'd just throw myself back into your arms and all would be forgotten!"

"It's been _six _months! Why can't you get over it? I cheated, okay, I cheated!" He yells, "Why do you feel the need to punish me for the rest of my life for one stupid mistake?"

Covering my ears, I can't listen to him, not anymore. I'm so angry I'm shaking. It takes a few minutes to salvage a shred of my self-control. "Ron, I'm not punishing you," I finally say in a cool voice, "I don't love you. I'm as sure of my feelings today as I was that night. I don't love you anymore; the cheating just made me really see things for what they really were. I was only marrying you out of obligation, because we'd been together so long, because you and your family wanted it, but not for love…_never_ for love. I want to marry for love, not duty. I want to live my life without regrets, and marrying you would've been my biggest."

"You don't mean that," he says, voice breaking.

"I do. I can't make me love you, I don't even think I would if I could."

He looks incredibly hurt, "Why did you come here today then?"

"I came because I'm your friend, or at least I hope I still am…because I want to be. Ron, we've been through a great deal together to throw our friendship away. I came because you invited me under the premise of friendship…and I came today to tell you that I've moved on."

His body tenses, stammering, "You…you've moved on?"

I nod slowly and carefully watch his eyes cloud with anger. _Shit._

Ron's blue eyes narrow as he speaks rudely, "You could've told me_ before_ I got down on my knee. I feel like a fool."

"I tried to, but you weren't listening—"

Smouldering in anger, he back away from me, turning away as if the sight of me repulses him. This is going downhill fast and all I can do is stand here and watch it crash and burn around me. Ron grabs me by the arm roughly.

I jerk my arm away, pushing him off me, but he's stronger than I remember and grabs me again, just as rough, "How can you move on so quickly?" Ron screams in my face, completely incensed, "Who is he? Is he here? Where is he?" I think he's about to lash out and slap me, but he stops himself. And it's a good thing too because I would've blasted his arse back to wherever he came from.

"You_ knew_ I loved you still and you moved on? How could you do that to me? How could you, Hermione?"

"Easy," I spit coldly, "But I'm not about to justify _anything_ to you because what I do is none of your concern. I'm a grown woman, we're finished, you cheated and I dumped you, I don't love you, I'm free to do and be with whoever I want, and contrary to popular beliefs, we're _not_ destined to be…and the sooner you realise this, the better off you'll be."

"Of course we are…who else could deal with such an insufferable, dry, snobby little…_bitch_?"

_When in doubt, insult Hermione_…that has to be his motto whenever we argue because he always insults me in the most painful ways.

Like in 1st year when he made me cry about not having friends, after that I learned not to let my anguish and sadness show, but every insult, every jab, everything…just hurt me deeply. I used to spend countless hours crying because of the things he's said and the things he did...and then got attacked by a troll. It's like he deliberately uses painful words against me and that's not what real friends do. But this time, it's more than just pain. It's more than anything I can explain.

_Bitch_. I've never been called that by a friend…by one of my best friends.

I just never, _ever_, not even in my wildest imagination, thought that Ron would direct that derogatory word to anyone, much less _me_.

The shock hits me like a spell to the chest and my heart breaks. He doesn't care and value our friendship like I do. He can say he does until he's blue in the face, but he doesn't.

Mistakes.

I've made nothing but mistakes since setting a foot in that door. Coming here today was a mistake. Caring about someone who clearly doesn't care about me is another mistake. Thinking that the bonds of our friendship were strong enough to get over this was another mistake…and I'm getting sick of making mistakes.

_Bitch._

The word brands not just my skin, but my soul, searing through my skin…and right now, this strange feeling builds up in me.

_Hate_.

A nasty little four-letter word I'm not too familiar with these days.

I_ hate_ him for hurting me with his callous words.

I_ hate_ him for thinking that my heart belongs to him and he can do with it what he feels.

I_ hate_ him more than anyone or anything.

And as of right now, in the heat of my hurt and anger, I could never see him again and it'd be too soon.


	13. Apologize

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything. It's all good.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_(A moment later)_

Regret fills his face and his voice shakes, "Oh, 'Mi—"

"I hate you," the soft words escape from my lips as tears cascade down my flushed cheeks in torrents.

I can't stop myself from crying, not from just his words, but because as of right now, I'm giving up one of my best friends because he will _never_ change because he will never stop hurting me when things don't go his way, and losing a friend always hurts, "I hate you so much."

His features soften considerably, reaching for me, apologizing with his watering blue eyes, "Hermione—"

Try as I may to keep my emotions in check, my reserve cracks, no it_ shatters_ into bits and pieces. Blind with rage and pain, I shove him away from me using every fibre of strength that I possess. The sheer force sends him crashing against the wall; a shocked yelp slips from his lips and some pans fall from the wall, clattering against the floor.

Tears continue to spill from my eyes as my hands begin to shake angrily.

He's done it again, he's made me cry…and I'm so fucking angry.

Completely hysterical, I sob and scream, "_I hate you!_" overwhelmed with emotions, I bawl uncontrollably into my hands, shaky and tense.

Foolishly, he reaches, trying to placate me again, "Geez—"

My open palm connects with his face as hard as it can, and in a foreign voice, I bellow, "Don't you _dare_ touch me Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare put your _filthy_ hands on me!" my head throbs painfully, but I continue to cry at the realization of the truth.

I have to cut him loose, he's hurting me, he's bringing me down, and I can't let him do this to me anymore.

"Please forgive me," Ron begs, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. It just came out, you _have_ to forgive me."

"_Stay_," I back up, my voice hoarse, "away from me," I take a deep breath, walking towards the door, heart broken because I'm losing one of my best friends. We've been through a lot together and I just thought—

"You have to—"

I look back with hot tears in my eyes, "I don't have to forgive you. I don't _have_ to do _shit_. Just—" I step back from the door, furious, I spin around and two strides later, I'm back in his face, mad as hell, madder than I've ever been, slapping him across the face again, "You get to cheat on me and then you get to come back and _propose_ like it's all sunshine and yellow daisies and when I tell you that I've moved on, I'm suddenly the _bitch?_ How does that fucking _work_, Ron? Huh? Because I don't get it! Explain it to me!"

He takes a shaky breath, "My anger got out of control, see—"

"Fuck you and your fucking anger! Anger doesn't give you the right to call me a bitch! Anger doesn't give you the _right _to treat me like I've committed a moral sin by moving on and deciding to live my life without you! Am I supposed to pine after you for my entire life? Huh? Am I?" I glare, enraged, "Fuck that...you know something, your anger doesn't do shit, you do…you were my best friend Ron, my best friend. Never," I shake my head in disgust, "Never did I imagine that you'd _ever_ say something like that to me."

Ron looks like he's about to cry…_good_, "Look—"

"No, you look! No matter how angry I get at you, I would _never_ be so hurtful, I would _never_ make you feel less than human, I would _never_…" I trail off, shaking my head, lips pursed, "Why am I wasting my fucking breath on you…_you_, Ronald Weasley, are _pathetic_…and I'm done with you. You can take our friendship and shove it up your arse, toss it in the Danube, blast it into space, I don't give a damn, we're _done_."

More pleading, "Do—"

I hold my hand up, cutting him off with ease, stepping away slowly, voice breaking, "I don't want to hear it, I'm done fighting, I'm done caring when it's clear that you don't, and I'm done trying. Caring for you is draining and I'd prefer to wash my hands clean of you so I'm done. I give up. You win whatever war we were fighting. Consider this the end of our friendship…I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Britain…" I turn my back to him, fully prepared to leave.

"Hermione…" his voice breaks, "I _do_ want to be your friend. I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry."

I toss him one last look, cold and searing, my eyes still full of tears, "That's nice…" my voice breaks, "but it's too late to apologise."

And for the second time, I let the door close quietly behind me.

This time, I hear Ron kicking the wall in frustration and anger as I leave.

* * *

_(Seconds later) _

Emerging from the kitchen, I enter into a quiet, gloomy room where no one is smiling.

They've heard _everything_.

I don't need to explain my tears. Only James seems to be happy, gurgling and babbling in his grandmother's arms while she cries softly into his hair. Ginny isn't around, Bill and Mr. Weasley aren't either; they're probably trying to keep her from hexing her brother for being an insensitive git. George looks solemn, shaking his head. Fleur looks dreadfully pale and tense.

Harry is the only one looking at me, his green eyes sad, "Hermione," he whispers, walking towards me cautiously.

I put up my hand, stopping him from defending Ron like he always does. Harry is a good friend, the best one I could ever ask for, but I can't listen to his voice of reason…not now.

Maybe later, but not now.

"I can't—" my voice breaks, "I can't do this. I can't be here. I'm sorry. I have to go."

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by the back door opening. Teddy and Victorie run in, laughing and carrying on like the happy children they are, somewhat breaking the tension in the room. Harry backs up, smiling at the two, trying to make things look normal.

"If you wash your hands really good," Draco calls from outside, halting the motions of the kids fleetingly, "I'll take you back out after dinner. Only if you're good…_and_ you eat your vegetables."

"Vegetables?_ Yuck!_" Teddy exclaims and I almost want to smile and cry at his innocence.

"Well, okay then, Victorie and I will have _loads_ of fun flying, won't we?"

The little girl giggles and nods happily.

Teddy pouts, "Oh, alright! I'll eat my vegetables…will I be able to fly then?"

"Of course."

They squeal and all I hear is the pitter-patter of little feet running upstairs.

A few seconds later, Draco enters the house, face flushed from running and flying around with the kids. Immediately, concern furrows his brow when he sees me, red-faced and tear stained; he looks around the sombre room before meeting my gaze again, "Hermione," his voice is solemn, "what's wrong?"

Walking towards him, "Let's go now."

Confused, he holds me by the shoulders, "What?"

"Draco," I say calmly, but my body shakes with rage, "you have _five_ minutes to go say goodbye to the kids and if you ask me another question, I swear on Merlin's beard, I am going to fucking snap unlike _anything_ you've ever seen in your bloody life." I take a calming breath, determined not to hurt and fight with him because I'm hurting, "I'll...be in the car."

Instead of retreating, he firmly holds on to me, "Calm down, love, it's going to be okay," embraces me gently, like I'm this porcelain doll, breakable and precious. And it's a good thing too because I _am _broken and I need him. I can't back away…even if I tried, I can't stop myself from burying my face in his chest, I can't stop the dam from breaking. My knees weaken, hands grip the back of his blazer, and I'm sobbing into him hysterically, clinging to him as if my existence depends on how tightly I clutch on to him.

Firmly, he holds me back, stroking my hair, trying to calm me down with soft words. Slowly but surely, I feel a sense of peace overwhelm me as hysterical cries diminish to small hiccups and sighs. His lips press against my forehead as I relax in his embrace, "What the bloody hell happened?" I hear him ask Harry protectively, his hand rubbing the length of my back.

"Ron."

Crossly, "I'm going to kick his--where is that snivelling little bloody _git_?"

As if on cue, I hear the kitchen door swing open and a cold, "Get your_ hands _off her…wait, what in the hell are _you_ doing here, _Malfoy_?"

Slowly, Draco pries my hands off him and passes me to Harry, who wraps a comforting arm around my shoulder. I lean back against him, too drained to do anything about the hell that's about to break loose in here.

There's a new edge in Draco's voice I've never heard before, "I'm only going to ask this once,_ Weasley_, so you better lose the fucking attitude and give me a good answer because it just may be your last: What did you say to her?" Draco asks, eyes blazing with rage.

"Malfoy, why do you even—" Ron pauses, "Oh, I see, _you're_ the new boyfriend," he whispers sourly…and then the bomb that is Ronald Weasley detonates. Angry blue eyes whip to me and he practically screams in my face, "You're dating him! I can't _believe_ you're dating him! He taunted us throughout school, he called you a _Mudblood_, he almost killed us, Hermione, and now you're with him? You're stupid, this is stupid…I can't even believe this bullshit! Do you even _know_ what today was?"

"Today hasn't been significant to me in a while. It's just a normal day." I admit coldly.

Disgusted, "Why don't you just twist the knife in deeper? How long?" he yells.

"How long what, Ron?" I fold my arms.

"How long have you been with him?" He screams.

"Around four and a half months," Draco replies calmly.

Thank Merlin for Harry's training as an Auror, he knew exactly what was about to happen, side steps me, and stops Ron before he could attack Draco. "Four and a half months! Four and a half _bleeding_ months! Did you even take a break to get over me or did you just run right into his bed? He's a _Malfoy_, Hermione! Don't be so stupid! He's _going_ to hurt you and when he does—"

"I won't!" Draco fumes with searing authority in his voice, "Don't you _dare_ insinuate that I will because I won't hurt her, Weasley. I love her I would kill myself before I harm _one _bloody hair on her head!"

The room…no, wait, the world freezes.

Various gasps can be heard all over the room, Mrs. Weasley's, accompanied by a _"sweet Merlin"_, is the loudest. Harry's eyes widen and he staggers a bit. My eyes meet his, widened in shock. He's not paying attention to Ron anymore, only me. What? He what? I'm sorry, my brain just short-circuited for a second there. My heart swells to capacity. _What?_ Can he say it again? I fear my hearing has failed me.

He takes a breath before gathering his nerve to repeat, "Hermione, just—" he chuckles ruefully, "this is crazy, this isn't even the time or the place, but…I _know_ its fast…I just—I'm in love with you. I've been planning to tell you for like a month, I just thought it would scare you away."

Shocked, my mouth just hangs open.

Ron scoffs, "Of course, he's lying! Can't you see that or has he poisoned your mind?" Ron fights against Harry to get by, and though he's considerably shorter than Ron, he doesn't budge, "He's a _Slytherin_. He doesn't love."

"That's _wonderfully_ mature, Weasley," he sneers, "bringing up old forgotten grudges and prejudices. I really thought we all were past that—"

"You're a Death Eater…just like your father!"

Draco raised the sleeve, revealing unmarked, smooth skin. Never, since we've started dating, have I seen him quite so angry. Today makes that day at the ministry look like child's play. The contrast between cool and profound Draco and heated Draco is emotionally staggering. He's not one for outbursts, nor is he not one for making himself vulnerable, just like he is now.

"If I were a true Death Eater at heart, the mark would've stayed on my skin after Voldemort's defeat and you _know_ that. Yes, I made some mistakes; you don't know the circumstances of anything. I was a _kid_, and I was _scared_, the Dark Lord threatened to kill me _and_ my mother. He tortured me every night for the entire summer until I agreed to take the task…so I did something awful…do you think I'm_ proud_ of what I did? Do you? I did what I had to do to protect my mother…if you could _fathom_ stepping outside of yourself long enough to risk your life for someone you love then you wouldn't judge me."

George comes from nowhere and he's holding him back.

From the corner of my eye, I see a fuming Ginny being led back into the room by her father.

Ron sneers, "Please, everyone knows you worship your father!"

I've been with Draco for almost five months and I know _never_ to say anything like that…I also love him too much to start a fight like that. That's just a low blow. After everything that's happened, to bring something like that up—hell, _Harry_ even cringes. In that moment, when Draco race reddens, his fists clench, and his eyes turn a dark grey, I know that if Draco realized he had his wand, he would've killed Ron on the spot.

Harry tries to pull Ron out the way, but he's too late.

Before anyone can stop him, before anyone can do anything, Draco's fist slams into Ron's face and the sound of Ron's nose breaking echoes in the room.

All hell seems to break loose from that point on.

Chairs move, glass shatters, someone gasps, I hear a high-pitched screech from Ron right before he crumples against the floor. Harry, always the peacemaker, is now in a dangerous position and is trying, along with Mr. Weasley and George to keep Draco from pouncing on the redhead on the floor. Fleur pulls me out the line of fire just as Ron sits up.

"Get up, Weasley!" Draco shouts at him, livid, "I'm not done with you yet!"

Ron slowly gets up from the floor, his face red, and bloody nostrils flaring like a raging bull…his face is already starting to swell, "You should've _rotted_ in Azkaban, right next to all the other Death Eaters and your _bastard_ father!" Ron charges at Draco and throws a punch, but Draco is quick and dodges it easily.

I find myself on the table, searching for my wand to try and end this, but I left it in the car…"Fleur. Where is your wand?" I ask desperately.

She feels around for a few moments before realizing, "...it's in 'ze drawing room."

"Oh shit," I start to panic, "I _need _a wand."

Ron staggers, but doesn't turn around fast enough, Draco lands another brutal punch to his face, right on his cheek and would've continued had Harry not stepped in his way. Everyone is shouting words I don't understand. Ron's eyes widen and he lets out a strangled yell, knees quaking and his eye squinting in pain.

Somehow in the midst of all this, I hear James crying from the raises voices and the fighting; Fleur somehow takes him and leads the crying Mrs. Weasley out of the room, away from the fight, bumping into her husband, who is bringing Teddy and Victorie down for supper.

"Back upstairs, you two, just for a little while longer. _Allez…"_ There's a quick transfer of the baby and Bill takes his mom and the kids into the drawing room before they can see anything. Fleur wraps her arm around the tense Ginny who looks ready to jump in the fight.

More punches are exchanged. Draco punches Ron in the chest and knees him in the stomach, just as Ron lands one on Draco's shoulder and it's the last time Ron gets to touch him. Merlin, Draco must've been a boxer in another life because I've never seen someone duck and weave so expertly. It's only when Draco elbows Ron in the stomach, that George and Mr. Weasley finally manage to get a firm grip on him…and Harry grabs Ron to stop the fight. Both are breathing hard and swearing; Draco's knuckles are bleeding just as much as Ron's nose is.

Draco's next words are gruff, "You don't know _anything_ about me, Weasley! I_ hate_ my father! He was harsh, he was a monster, and he tortured me half of my childhood. When he killed my mother…" his voice cracks a little and my heart breaks at his anguish, knowing just how hard this is for him. None of this is a secret to me, but it doesn't mitigate the pain I feel when I hear him talk about this part of his life.

Ron looks too stunned at Draco's level of emotion to speak. Hell, everyone does. Except me and Ginny.

He puts the cap on his emotions briefly. "No one," he speaks coldly, "No one deserves to die the way she did. She did nothing wrong. I did everything I could to protect her and she still died…don't you think I've been_ punished _enough for what I've done, what I did in desperation? I've lost my mother, my friends, my identity…I don't have _anything_ in this world worth waking up every morning for…except Hermione…so fuck you for trying to cheapen my feelings for her! I love her and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"

My breath catches again. Draco isn't very expressive with spoken feelings. He said it before...but I still had no idea he felt so intensely for me.

Love. He loves _me_. The thought is staggering…because it's everything I could ever want…even though the declaration comes at an interesting time. Still, it's perfect.

Draco speaks again coldly, "You can be mad at me all you want," He fumes, "but you should really be mad at yourself. _You_ messed up, Weasley, not _me_. You had your chance with her and you blew it apart…and I have no intentions of being like you so get over your petty, little fucking childhood anger at me because she has and I have _no_ intentions of leaving her…you both can let me go now, I'm not going to kick his arse…_again_."

George and Mr. Weasley let him go and he storms out the back door, probably to collect himself, and the room falls into a tense silence. Everyone looks as emotionally drained as I feel. I start to go after him as tears fall from my eyes.

But Ron breaks the silence before I can leave, lashing out at everyone, "You all knew all this time…some family _you_ lot are. Harry? You're my best mate! How could you _not _tell me? Where's the loyalty? Huh? _Someone _could've mentioned it to me in an owl or something!"

"It wasn't our place…just like it's not _your_ place to tell Hermione who she can and can't date," Ginny sneers sourly, folding her arms.

"What—"

She cuts him off, "I _like_ Draco. Everyone likes him, mum and dad included. Hell, Crookshanks even likes him! You're the one with the problem; you're the one who can't move on. She doesn't love you. How many times does she have to spell it out for you to understand her? Draco…you didn't even give him a _chance_. You just went off at the mouth, yelling that he was a Death Eater and just like his father when you know _nothing_…when you didn't take the time to learn anything. He's good…he's a good person. He's good for her. He _loves_ her, _appreciates_ her, and he would _never_ hurt her…"

"Gin—" Ron starts, angrily.

"No! You get to say how you feel, _you_ got to throw petty little accusations around and now it's my turn! You said earlier that she was stunning. Do you want to know _why_ she looks so stunning? It's because she's _happy_, it's because she's in _love_, it's because of _him_…and if you were really her friend, if you _really_ gave a damn about her…then you'd accept their relationship and him because I'll be damned if she gets hurt again because of _you_…I'll be damned."

_Well done, Ginny._

Shooting her a thankful look, I walk to the back door and just as I am about to turn the knob, Ron calls my name, looking contrite, "Hermione, look. I _know_ I messed up. I didn't know…I didn't know about all that with Malfoy."

Harry spoke up, angrily, "You never cared enough to ask…you just make judgments."

Ron's eyes soften more, "Look, Hermione, just hear me out."

My hand rests on the door knob and I look back, "I would…I _really_ would Ronald, but you called me a _bitch_ and my boyfriend a Death Eater in the span of about twenty minutes. I just can't deal with you _or_ your bullshit anymore. As I told you before, I'm done. Our friendship is _done_. Excuse me everyone…and by the way, the food is ready. Enjoy the dinner and welcome back, Ronald." I slam the back door behind me.

I close my eyes and take a breath before turning around.

Draco is standing in the middle of the backyard, looking off into the distance.

Approaching him silently, I let memories of that night over four years ago run through my mind. It was cold, dark, and the rain was awful. I didn't know there was a murder until I arrived on the scene to collect evidence. Draco, Harry, and other Aurors were going inside when I arrived. I followed.

When he realized his mom was the victim, I've never seen him so irate, broken, or sad. He cried in his hands, cursing everyone and everything. Even then I remember wanting to comfort him, wanting to hold him, but was unsure of his reaction…we weren't close. When we cornered his father about two months later, and I had to physically stop Draco from killing him…not that it did any good, his dad killed himself rather than accept defeat, which tore the foundation of the rebel wizards…soon after, they were all rounded up and put in prison.

The next day Malfoy house-elves were freed and the manor was burned to the ground.

And a year later, he was no longer an Auror.

The closer I get to him, the more I realize something. Draco really_ doesn't_ have anyone…except me. It's a sobering thought, really.

I can't imagine life without parents, family, and friends.

I can't picture what he's been through, nor can I imagine literally always being and feeling alone.

I can't fathom any of it, but what I can do is be there for him, with him. I can love him just as much as he loves me. I can give him the happy ending he deserves.

"I—" I'm not good at saying the right things when they really matter, but still, I can try.

He turns, "Hermione, I'm—"

I take a breath, "You may be blond, your eyes may be grey, you may be just a tad pale, you may be a pretentious little ferret when you want to be, you may be arrogant and stubborn and a pain in the arse sometimes, and you may like to bully interns—" a small smile creeps across his face, "you may be tall, you may have a defined face, you may even be a Malfoy, and you may even be the spitting image of your father, but you, Draco…you are not your father's son…you never will be." I take his bruised and bloody hand into mine, pausing and staring at our entwined fingers for a second before looking up at him, "and you don't just have me…Ginny was in there fighting for you. Harry too…you aren't alone…"

"I didn't even mean to say all that in there. It just came out," He admits, quietly. I've _never_ heard him sound so drained.

"I know and I don't care what he says about you. You have me."

"But if you leave—"

Cutting him off, "I won't. I'm _not_. I couldn't even leave you if I wanted to. Why? Because, Draco, I love you too."

Wordlessly, pulls me into a hug and I melt into him – to the point where I can no longer discern myself from him.


	14. Hot

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: I do have to answer one criticism by Cosmopolitan. Hermione knew everything he was saying to Ron, none of it was a shock to her except the "I love you" part. I even hinted at the fact that Harry and Ginny may know everything too. Harry was there the night Draco's mum died and Ginny knows because she and Draco are friends...the depth of their friendship is hinted at throughout the story (she knows his address, she told him about Ron's infidelity, she's the one who knew he liked her, and the fact that he calls her Ginny is a strong indication of how deep their friendship is), but it would be hard to go into detail about because it's in Hermione's point of view. Looking back, I probably should've gone into more detail about Hermione knowing everything Draco yelled at Ron, but in the little monologue in chapter 11, she says, "As time goes one, he talks about everything..." and to explain what exactly that everything was, I had him blow up at Ron and tell, well...everything. The older Draco, to me, is mature, he's calm and composed and rarely blows up. He's seen a lot of gore, violence, and death after spending a year in Voldemort's presence and it's really brought him back to reality and he's never really spoken much about it. This makes him a ticking bomb. I do think that he's someone who will spill everything if he's pushed enough and Ron calling him a death eater sent him over the edge. He's spent _years_ trying to rectify his actions, trying to rebuild his name, and for Ron to accuse him of being the monster he's trying so hard to prove he's not...it's almost too much to take. So for me, that's not out of character...because that's how I think of him. I do hope I answered your question and thanks for the criticism!

Now on to the chapter. As usual, happy reading! Please read and review! Oh yeah, this chapter has a smut warning.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

_(Two and a half months later: January 4th)_

Draco is _not_ a morning person.

Every morning, when I'm getting ready for work in the bathroom, I hear him snoring from under the covers while the alarm clock blares. The colder it gets outside, the more nights we spend cuddled together underneath warm sheets, blankets, and comforters.

Every morning, his head is buried under the pillow and it never fails, fifteen minutes later, when I'm brushing my hair, one hand emerges from under the covers…to beat the alarm clock into compliance.

I've had to repair it so many times it's not even funny...actually, it _is_.

Every morning, I tell him its time to get up and he offers a muffled groan from the mound of cotton. I sit on the bed and slowly pull the pillow from his face. He smiles, stretching and contorting his body, tightening his muscles. He throws the covers back, pulling me under the covers with him.

Every morning, he used to complain about me being dressed, but now I make sure I'm not totally.

His fingers amble aimlessly up the line up my abdomen, through the valley of my breasts, until they reach my chin, which he turns so I can meet his sleepy smile with one of my own as he whispers, "_morning_," and even though he hasn't said I love you since that fiasco at the Burrow, I _know_ he does. His actions prove it more to me than words ever could…

…and waking up with him makes each day worth waking for.

* * *

_(Christmas night)_

_It's late in the night and the rain that's been plaguing us all day hasn't let up. I'm just glad tomorrow is Sunday and we don't have to go to work in it._

_Draco is in my robe, lying on the makeshift bed made of heaps of pillows, blankets, and a fat down comforter from the bed in front of the dying fire. Spending nights in front of the fire is starting to become a winter tradition I love. Soft music plays from the stereo and I'm staring out the window at the rain, in my pyjamas, with my arms wrapped around my waist. _

_It may be nasty and cold outside, but rain…it always calming to me, especially after a long Christmas with my mom's family. Okay, it isn't particularly **terrible**…just long, somewhat boring, with a lot of questions about what happened between Ron and I…and about my relationship with Draco…and how weird his name is. _

_Draco remains pleasant, even though my uncles hassle him; agreeable, even though my cousins annoy him about his aristocratic accent; composed, even though my aunts and my mum asked us when we're getting married; and charming, even though he probably spent most of the day annoyed by every single person there. _

_Overall, I think they like him…and if they don't, I don't care. They'll have to get used to it and him._

_Lips settle on my neck and I'm instantly surrounded by a warm blanket. I shiver, not even realizing I'm cold. His voice is muted when he whispers in my ear, "You're up late, love."_

_Smiling, "Just thinking," I shiver again when he kisses my cheek._

_"Cold?"_

_I rest my back against him, comfortable and snug, "Not anymore."_

"_Would you like to move?" _

"_Not right now."_

_He pauses, "This is good."_

_This **is **good. It's good to be in his arms. It's good to be wrapped in a blanket with him. It's good to be in this cosy room, the dying fire, our bodies touching, the ambiance…yes, this is good…it's better than just good. It's wonderful. I cover his arms with mine, relaxing fully against him, feeling his breath on my neck._

_Closing my eyes, I smile, agreeing, "Yes, it is."_

* * *

Work is easy with him these days.

He's all business, professional, and does his job perfectly. We have rules because rules work for me…and he enjoys breaking them so much. Still, the rules are: no flirting, kissing, or affectionate touches unless we're at lunch of about to leave for the day.

Our days go by smoothly now that everyone respects my authority and doesn't question our relationship…

…and those little pesky fans of his actually _like_ me now, rather than despise the ground I walk on.

Their words, not mine.

Draco and I, we compliment each other. When I'm frazzled and off-sorts, he's calm and level-headed. When we have decisions to make, I make little pro's and con's lists he laughs at, but entertains me anyway. I can be neurotic every so often, especially when things need to be perfect (or as close to perfect as I need it to be), but he's so collected that it relaxes me.

It just seems that everything between us has fallen right into place now; it makes the hell we've been through in the past months seem like a distant dream.

Let's just wish they stay distant.

* * *

_(Two months ago)_

"_It's **awful** the way people treat their house-elves." Shaking my head, I continue reading a case the Office of House Elf Relocation sent over for me to review. _

_Not only did the family abuse the house-elves my spitting on them and beating them, but they cut off their limbs and used unforgivable curses on them when they don't behave the way they wanted them to. I think of Dobby (rest his soul) and Winky when I sign off on the sentences for these egregious acts. _

_They are recommending the adults of the house serve two-month sentences in Azkaban and everyone in the family to attend sensitivity classes to learn the severity of their crimes, and also, they're forbidden to ever own a magical creature again._

"_Are house-elves really necessary for survival?" I wonder aloud, signing off on the sentences._

"_Some may think they are."_

"_I just don't understand why people treat them so poorly if they **need** them…"_

_Draco looks over my shoulder, "Thinking about reactivating S.P.E.W.?"_

_Not only do I smile because he's the first person who's gotten it right in years (hell, almost ever), but also because I'm amazed he even... "You remember—"_

"_Of course I do." He scoffs as if I'm being ridiculous again._

"_But—"_

_Smirks, "You know…deep down, I stopped hating you when you slapped me in 3rd year. I have to respect a girl who can slap the taste out of my mouth…Muggle-born or not."_

_I smile. He smiles. And we stay like that for a while, until I speak up._

"_Draco…"_

"_Yes?"_

_Taking a deep breath, I spill what's been on my chest for a while now, what's kept me awake at night, "I've been really thinking about transferring and working to advocate the rights of magical creatures. It's my passion, always has been and probably always will be. They offered me a position as Secondary of the department," I look at him, "and...well, I've been thinking about taking it."_

"_You want to transfer? Why?" _

"_I think once the war finished I got side-tracked with Magical Law Enforcement…but I've learned a lot in my five years here. The more I read these cases of these house elves getting abused and mistreated, the more I can't stand sit here and do nothing about it."_

_He looks amazed, "You're going to give up all this—"_

"_I like power, yes, but I'm not as ambitious as you are, Draco. I would've **never** survived in Slytherin."_

_Draco snorts, knowing I'm telling the truth._

"_Besides, you're the one who's better qualified for this job, you always have been. I think it's time you take over," I smile at the odd look on his face, "See, I know I'm doing good work here, I really do…but I want to make a difference…and try not to work so much."_

_He raises an eyebrow, "Hermione Granger, workaholic to the extreme—"_

"_Yes, well, I'm ready to settle. I want to be able to take some time off, maybe take a vacation, maybe take a few months off if the situation presents itself, maybe sleep-in, maybe have a sick day…and not come back to find the whole department imploding on itself—"_

_Defensively, he cuts me off, "That only happened one time! Never going to let me live that down, are you?"_

_I grin, "Never."_

* * *

Draco talks in his sleep…

Okay, he _mumbles_. His eyes are always closed. His lips slightly apart, swollen from sleep, pressed together…but not too much so he can groan contentedly. But occasionally, he says actual words, slurred together as he moves his head closer to mine. Sometimes Draco sighs a small, _"Hermione."_ Sometimes, I can't understand him. I can never speak when I'm awake and he whispers, _"love you,"_ because my heart is in my throat.

His voice is raspy, eyelashes flutter as he converses to me on the other side of his eyelids. In the midst of sleep, I can never make out what he says, I'm not always alert enough to listen, but I really love that he dreams of me.

Draco isn't perfect, though he may think he is. He has idiosyncrasies. He spends more time getting dressed and on his hair than _I_ do, he looks at me crazy for a full minute when I ask him to do dishes like he's trying to debate whether or not he's going to do it (he always cheats and uses magic when he thinks I'm not paying attention, but I always notice), and he thinks laundry is evil.

The funny thing is, he does things that make me blush or absolutely crazy…

* * *

_(Almost three months ago)_

"_It's really pretty out here, Draco."_

_Content, "Yes, it is…"_

_For their first weekend away from baby James (who's staying with the Weasleys), Harry decides to be adventurous and take Ginny camping…and she decides to invite Luna, Neville, Draco, and I…for company. I really thought Draco was going to say no, but he surprised the hell out of me when he actually agreed_

_When we get out here, I realise Draco has been camping before._

_Luna and Neville are at home in the forest, of course. They know just about everything about every plant, every tree, and every species of creatures. They're like the super-forest couple and they lead us everywhere. After spending nearly a year outdoors, I'm** not** a huge fan of camping…and poor Ginny **hates** to camp, but she's smiling for Harry's sake…and charming every creature in sight. _

_Luckily for us, the boys aren't too serious about camping…we're sleeping in wizarding tents…which is like sleeping at home, sort of._

_Harry and Ginny are in bed sleeping; completely exhausted from the hike, the wonderful swim in the lake, the fishing, and overall exploring. Neville and Luna are in their room examining some of things they found…he's probably going to show them off to his Herbology classes. As for us, we're outside. Our tent is in a clearing, making it possible for Draco to see the sky. _

_It really **is** a pretty tonight, for the first time I'm **not** regretting coming. It's a cool November night, not cold, but just cool. I'm fortunate for this weather. There isn't a cloud in the navy sky…and the beautiful harvest moon. The sky is littered with millions of stars. He's already pointed out a few to me: Cassiopeia, __Phoenix__, Tucana, and Pisces. _

"_That's Andromeda; I like it because it's my aunt's name."_

_Smiling, I think back to their surprise reunion earlier this week. _

_He was nervous as hell and I think I saw it fizzle away when she walked into the Weasleys house with Teddy, who ran immediately to Harry. She grinned and walked right up to him and threw her arms around him, hugging him close. I cried because even though it's only one person, he has family…and I don't think she'll let them go years without talking again._

_He tells me, "According to legend, Perseus killed Medusa and rescued her from the sea monster, Cetus."_

_Yes. Another surprise, not only does he like astronomy, he likes Roman and Greek mythology. _

_He points out the Sculptor constellation and after spotting it, I ask, "Did you know that the Sculptor was named by Abbé Nicolas Louis—"_

"—_de Lacaille, yeah, I know…you weren't the only one paying attention in Astronomy, love."_

_I smile and kiss his chin softly, "You know something, Draco. I really don't like camping, but I like this, being here with you in the middle of nowhere, identifying and talking about constellations…making love under the stars."_

_Draco shoots me a quizzical look, "But we haven't made love under the stars—"_

_Smiling wryly, "Not yet," I play with the button on his shirt._

"_I** love** the way you think."_

* * *

…but it _still_ is all about the little things with him.

When we're walking in the park and he wraps his arms around me because he _knows_ I'm cold, when he watches at me for no reason when I'm cooking or holding baby James, and when he instinctively holds me in my office after a long day, I know everything about him that drives me crazy is enough.

Everything is enough.

And when he sighs in my hair, everything is more than enough.

We have unrestrained passion and epic fights…

* * *

_(A month and half months ago)_

_When I hear his key in the lock, I know I sighed too soon. I listen to his breathing in silence for ten minutes before he manages to summon enough nerve to actually talk to me._

_His voice is low, "No greeting, Granger?"_

_I don't bother to look away from the window. As long as I watch the rain, I can still hold on to a bit of my sanity._

_But I speak anyway, "What the hell am I supposed to say, Draco?"_

"_Something would be good."_

_I sigh, "Something. Hell, throw in some nothing and everything too, while we're at it."_

_I hear him sigh behind me and I feel a bit of satisfaction that I can cause a reaction in him that doesn't involve slamming doors and screams louder than the silence we're forced to endure during times like these…"Hermione, why do you have to be so difficult?"_

_Tensely, "Oh, so now **I'm** the difficult one? Forgive me if I made a mistake, but aren't you the one who walked out?"_

"_I came back."_

"_Congratulations…pretend I'm throwing **lots** of confetti."_

"_You know I didn't mean it like that. I came back, isn't that what you wanted? For me to come back?"_

_I stare harder out the window, "No, what I want is for you **not** to leave."_

_He sounds shocked, "You want me to stay?"_

"_Yes. I want you to stay. I **always** want you to stay."_

"_Even when I'm mad?"_

"_Yes…even when you're angry. Hell, even when I'm angry. If you care enough to stay, it means there just may be enough hope for us to work through whatever makes you want to leave in the first place."_

"_Look, I'm sorry I left. I know it doesn't mean shit to you, but I really am sorry. When I'm angry, I don't like to stay and scream at you, it's absolutely pointless…why won't you look at me?"_

_Another sigh, "Because then I'm just going to watch you walk away again and I'm **sick** of watching you walk away."_

"_Who said I'm going to walk away **this** time? Who says I'm ever going to walk away again?"_

* * *

…and even during our _worst_ moments I still can't imagine life without him…

"Come on, Hermione, _please!_" Ginny begs over the phone Saturday morning.

She wants us to go out to dinner tonight with her and Harry to meet Ron's newest girlfriend. Apparently she's a bit dim and Ginny can't see herself making it through dinner without hexing the poor girl.

And well, I haven't seen much of Ron since he showed up at my job a month ago to apologise to us….

* * *

_(Last month)_

"_Is there a reason why you're standing in my office?" I ask from the doorway, disdain evident in my voice. _

_Ron looks up from a picture frame of me and Draco he's holding. Startled, he sets the frame down. _

_Draco, who is a few strides behind me, catches up, takes one good look at Ron, and mutters, "oh hell no, fuck that shit" and takes a step back, prepared to go back to his office and grab his wand, no doubt._

_Ron throws his hands up, "Look, wait…the both of you."_

_Draco stops, turning around dreadfully slow and I put my hands on my hips as if to say, "well…get on with it!" Instead, I remain silent, while my hand searches my robes for my wand. After the Burrow fiasco, I've **never** left my wand in the car or anywhere else again. I always keep it on me, for times like these. When I grip it firmly in my hand, I relax just a little._

"_Well, what?" Draco asks gruffly._

_He looks directly at me when he speaks, "Look, I was wrong—I'm sorry I overreacted…" he trails off for a moment, "to your relationship with Malfoy." Ron spits out slowly, as if he's trying not to choke on his own words. I'm **sure** Draco won't mind if he did._

"_Did Potter put you up to this?" Draco asks, sceptically._

"_No."_

"_Ginny? Your brothers? Fleur? Your parents? Someone?" I ask, with equal scepticism._

"_No…to all of those. I came on my own," he rubs his head and kicks my floor lightly as if he were kicking a tiny ball out of his way, "Look, 'Mione, I know you may never forgive me for everything I've done, but I just wanted to apologise, and maybe we can start all over again…"_

* * *

Our friendship is still nonexistent, but he is _really_ trying, for the first time in his life, to be nice to Draco and accept his place in my life.

These days, we only see him when we have dinner at the Burrow…each time he brings a different girl.

Sometimes she's brunette, sometimes she has raven haired, but for the most part, they're blond and _silly_. But if this one is as dense as Ginny claims, I'll pass; I can't stomach so much stupidity in one night.

Rubbing my eyes, I stretch, trying not to wake Draco, who's curled against me, sleeping.

Ginny is begging now, I feel bad, but I'd much rather go to the ministry party and be bored to tears. "Gin—"

She sighs before launching off into a tirade, "You _have_ to go Hermione! If you don't go, I'm going snap and hex her, and if I hex her it may not be enough and I'll have to use an unforgivable on her, and if I use an unforgivable I'll get sent to Azkaban, and if I get sent to Azkaban Harry will be wife-less and James will be mother-less, and without a mother he'll turn into—"

I crack. "_Okay! Okay!_ I'll go."

My yelling startles Draco awake, looking at me bleary-eyed and confused before yawning. Damn. Such a sexy sight.

"Thank you!" She proceeds to tell me that they're all meeting at their house tonight, but I'm no longer listening, his hands are trailing down the curve of my waist.

I'm suddenly in a rush to get off the phone, "Okay, Gin, we'll see you at 7 o'clock, _bye!_" I hang up and roll over to face Draco, he's smiling very evilly, propped up on his elbow and looking wonderful, "Well, good morning…"

He continues to trail his fingers down my body, "Mmhmm…_very _good…so what did Ginny want?"

"Apparently, we're going to meet Ron's new girlfriend at dinner tonight."

Draco makes a face, "_Another_ one? He goes through girlfriends like you go through quills."

I stick out my tongue playfully.

"What did I tell you about that…don't stick it out unless you're going to _use it_," He says boldly. I smile, just as bold and evil, "So…why do _we_ have to go?"

"Ginny apparently can't _stand_ her and I need to be a buffer…and _you_ need a good laugh."

Evilly, "Not going to argue with you about that one, love," resting on his back, hands under his head, totally relaxed.

The comforter shields his nakedness underneath the blanket, but I know. He looks sexy like this.

Scooting over, I press my head against the crook of his neck and stroke his chest lovingly.

He tenses. I love when he tenses, "Yes, that would be unwise," I nip at his neck, making him hiss softly, "I _am_ an insufferable know-it-all, after all," I say arrogantly.

Draco's chuckle softens when my hands move down his stomach, pushing the covers back to see what I'm doing. They completely shut off when I wrap my hand around his cock. He tells me not to stop and covers my hand with his, closing his eyes in sheer pleasure. I knead the back of his neck and he moans. Knowing it's a major weak spot, I occasionally rake my short nails over his skin of his neck, loving how receptive he is to me, loving how hot his skin has become, loving his soft moans, loving the gentle rocking motions of his hips…loving everything and every part of him.

"You like it when I touch you, hmm?" I ask, my voice a hoarse whisper. It seems almost irreverent to break the new silence, but I want to hear his throaty, low voice. I want to be able to attach my emotions to something, because they always run unchecked and wild when I'm with him.

"Yes, but not _nearly_ as much as being inside of you," Draco admits, his entire body shaking as he thrusts into my hand.

My hand tightens around him ever so slightly.

His back arches. Merlin, I don't even think I need to describe just how hot he looks naked, with his back arched. I don't even need to describe how hot it makes me. Just looking at him makes me flush from my head to my feet.

…and it doesn't take long for me to get him exactly the way I want him…moaning and horny as hell.

Turning his head, I capture his lips in a deep kiss.

He's moaning into my mouth and my hands are stroking him slightly faster and considerably harder.

Draco breaks the kiss and with a deep sigh, his eyes focus on the feel of my hand on him. When he can't take anymore looking, I adjust and his head rests on mine, we're nose to nose and he sighs again, pushing himself through my hand, body rigid.

Moaning vociferously, "I really like it when I wake up to this."

Grinning, "I know…stop that," I hiss and with a swat of my hand, I stop him from trying to touch me.

Next, with a wave of my wand, I start a warm bath.

…and soon enough, after adding oil and soap, Draco rests back against the edge of the tub and I rest on him, one hand relaxes behind his neck and the other is in the business of making him feel good in the water.

He's kissing me deeply, so passionately that it easily distracts me from the task at hand (no pun intended, _really_). The oil in the bathwater makes my hand smooth like butter and according to all the moaning and groaning; he loves it.

Draco breaks our kiss once more, this time with a deep sigh, as I stroke him. He sighs again, pushing himself through my slick and tight fist. His hand reaches between my legs and I stop him. He tries again and I stop him again.

"Such a stubborn little git," I avert his attention with a wry smile, "Try that one more time and I'll _tie you up_ and have my way with you." I murmur wickedly.

Audaciously and rather breathlessly, "Is that a _threat?_"

"No, a _promise_…don't even try to touch me, I love the way you feel in my hand," he smiles back, then closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the nape of my neck. I whisper, kissing wherever my lips will reach, "I want to do this…to the end."

Yes, to the end.

Draco's body reacts to my words marvellously. His muscles tense and immediately go rigid, his hands grip my waist as his moans become more intense and unrestrained. Pushing into my hand, he meets each touch…trying to pace me, trying to pace himself—but it's no use. Each touch is accompanied by a soft cry from him, as if this is pure agony, but he doesn't stop me or himself.

I love it, I love this, I love the power I have over him, the power he hands over to me, the power to make him feel good. He doesn't give up control like this often, but it's good…it's so damn good when he does.

I love that he loves me enough to let he into his citadel. I love how stiff he is in my hand. I love the way he moans my name.

"_Draco,_" I whisper in his ear, pinching and tweaking his nipple with my free hand, "_To the end._"

"_Stop. That. Teasing. Bullshit._ " He moans very darkly, thrusting into my hand as rapidly as his hips will allow him. I know he's right there, teetering over the edge.

Of course, I ignore him. I keep talking to him, telling him how much I like doing this, how good he feels in my hand, and—

The orgasm that crashes into him is almost ferocious; he grabs me frantically as he comes. I feel the muscles in his neck tighten, but he's quiet this time, just holding me closely, letting it overwhelm him until he goes a little limp against me. So I'm quiet now too, holding him back, just as firm, sitting back with my back now against the side of the tub and Draco resting against me.

When Draco lifts his head from my shoulder, he has that soft look I know so well. He's satisfied.

A tiny grin spreads across my face.


	15. Everybody's Fool

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

_(Later that night)_

Tara Molder is a stunning, thin blond woman with bright green eyes and a pretty smile.

She dresses nice, walks nice, and acts nice…she's just _nice_.

I can't fault random men for looking twice at because she is beautiful and she's completely smitten with Ron, who is just as smitten…like two little puppies in love, they are…which is a good thing because when she opens her mouth, all of her attraction and appeal fly out the window.

Yes, she's just as daft and ridiculous as Ginny says she is.

She's a pureblood who works as a photographer for Witch Weekly and I recall her saying that they met when she did a story on Ron, most eligible bachelor for the month of November (at that piece of news, Draco's eyebrow threatens to touch the sky). Tara attended Hogwarts, but was three years behind us and aspires to be a journalist…and judging from the way she reads the menu…well, let's just say, I can make a safe bet that'll never happen.

Tara is everything I'm not…everything I never want to be…and sitting here tonight has really made me see just what kind of woman Ron looks for. He wants someone who loves all the same activities as he does and has the same hobbies, someone who will marry him and have all of his babies, someone who will let him support her…someone like her.

I'm nothing like that. I never have been and I never will be…

Falling for Draco has sort of tamed my desperate need for independence, has made me start to make plans to settle down, but all-in-all; I'm still the same Hermione Granger…just comfortable.

Merlin, sitting here has also made me realise how everything has changed in almost nine months.

Ron and I…we would've been miserable newlyweds if Miranda hadn't come between us. And just the mere thought of us spending the rest of our lives together is laughable, at best. We'd never get past fighting and tearing each other down to really have a meaningful relationship. I think he's beginning to see it now. I think he's beginning to see the differences in his current relationships and ours.

You are supposed to grow and learn from past relationships, but being with Ron taught me all the wrong lessons.

I learned that a lie really isn't a lie unless you admit it aloud. I learned that giving Ron his way makes the world a better place.

I learned that ignoring emptiness is easiest when you pretend it's not there. I learned that settling is acceptable, especially because nothing better will come along.

I learned that happiness is a farce; it's not anything worth striving for…

It's not until Draco that I realise that everything I've ever learned about relationships is all wrong because Ron taught me wrong. In the days, hell, the months after I caught him with Miranda, I'm still realizing things about myself. You see, I can't just blame the way things happened on Ron. No, that wouldn't be fair…because the blame is mine too.

See, all that time I spent pretending…all I was doing was hurting him and me. All I was doing was leading him on. I may as well have told him to go out and cheat because I never gave myself to Ron fully, I never trusted him implicitly with my heart…I never even tried; I never gave myself a chance to fall for him. And for that alone, I apologise for.

Sex with Ron always left something to be desired, it always left me with a little itch for something different…

…an itch that's been scratched, thank you very much, Draco.

You see, I've learned so much about myself and about love in the nearly eight months Draco and I have been together.

You can't create affection that isn't there to begin with, and having respect for yourself is better than having compassion for others. I've learned that sometimes it's better to cut your losses rather than force yourself to feel; and yelling and screaming just makes it easier to ignore the real issues at hand. I've learned that you have to be able to love yourself before you can love anyone else, and giving yourself completely to someone is one of the best feelings on earth…

When Ron and I finally talk, seriously talk, earlier this evening, we tell each other all the things I've been thinking about all these months. We don't yell, threaten, or hex each other. We don't spit accusatory words; we're just open and honest for the first time in a long time.

Maybe cheating on me was the best thing he could've done. Maybe if he would've been honest, I could've learned more about him.

Maybe if I forced him to listen, he would've heard the things I didn't say. Maybe if he listened, he would've remained faithful.

Maybe we're better off as friends because maybe Draco is better for me than he is or ever will be.

And maybe…maybe it's a good thing he taught me all the wrong lessons, because I learned all the right ones anyway and I taught him a few things too. I taught him that he doesn't have to fight for everything, that some things are better left alone. I taught him how to walk away from a bad situation, even when it's supposed to be good…

I have to kick Draco in the leg when Tara says she's a Hufflepuff before he starts to make one of his jokes about her house and calls her a feeble, little _ninny_.

Well, she may not get that it's a joke—she's a moron…okay, that's mean…I'll stop.

But she really _is_ stupid. But Ron seems smitten, so that's fine.

As long as he isn't fighting to get back with me and calling my boyfriend a death eater, I can't complain.

"So Draco…is that your real name?" Tara asks after we order drinks.

I raise a curious eyebrow at Ginny who orders wine and tells them to_ "keep it coming."_

Luckily for Tara, I made Ginny leave her wand at home…but I still have mine.

I know the look he shoots at her; it's a smile, but I _know_ he's calling her a moron. The thing about Draco is that no one really knows what he's thinking…or what he really thinks of them. In the three years of being his partner, I've learned most of the subtle actions, looks, and meaning of his smiles. After almost eight months of dating, I've learned a lot more about the enigma sitting next to me.

"_Yes_." He _almost_ sounds like Professor Snape.

I choke on my own laughter.

Harry's eyebrow rises humorously.

Stupidly, Tara presses, "It's a different sort of name, don't you think Ronny?"

"I agree," replies a love-struck Ron.

"…do you like your name, _Draco?_"

The waiter returns with our bottle of wine. Expertly, Draco makes sure he has the right year and with a satisfied nod, he lets the waiter pour wine into our glasses and leave the rest to chill in the ice bath Ginny has moved so it's sitting next to her. I watch Draco taste his wine, watching his hands. I love his hands.

It's not until he's satisfied with his wine that he answers, "_Yes_." Again, just like Professor Snape.

Ginny pours a third glass for herself.

Harry moves the bottle away from her.

Ginny glares at her husband.

Harry just smiles innocently.

Tara sips her water; she hates wine and prefers cherries. Yes, I'm serious...and yes I know it makes no sense, "Would you rather be named something else?"

He flags down the waiter, ready to take meal orders. Oh, Draco is getting impatient. I smile to myself when he says, "_No._"

She's fascinated with giving Draco a new name, "How about Christopher?"

I can tell he's peeved. It's so obvious. It's like someone took a quill, some ink, and scribbles, _"so fucking annoyed"_ on his head, "_No._"

"How-"

Exasperated, Draco looks at Ron, "Are you seriously dating this _spineless _little Hufflepuff?"

Ron nods gleefully.

Ginny nearly chokes on her wine.

Harry stifles on his own laugh and adjusts his glasses.

"Hey, I have a _spine._" Tara smirks like she's made the cleverest comeback on planet Earth.

Ginny's eyebrow threatens to tough the ceiling fan over our table.

Harry coughs and drinks some of Ginny's wine.

Ginny swats his hand and mutters, _"Get your own."_

Stifling my laughter at everything, I put my hand on Draco's knee, squeezing gently.

Draco looks at me and sweeps my curls behind my ears, trying to calm himself down. I know he's trying not to be mean.

Thankfully, Ginny starts talking about an article she read in the Daily Prophet and then about how she and I ended up having lunch with Parvati, Hannah, and Lavender in a Muggle restaurant. And then she happens to mention that the restaurant is within walking distance of my house…

"Hermione," Tara shakes her head, speaking softer because we _are_ in a Muggle restaurant, "I don't know _how_ you live in a Muggle neighborhood…it's so muggly."

She's totally serious.

Draco chokes on his wine. He's been doing that a lot tonight. I've even had to pat him on the back a few times.

"Well," I start, "It's a little easier for me because I'm Muggle-born. My parents are Muggles." I explain nicely.

Ginny shoots me a _"why do you even try?"_ look and discreetly rolls her eyes. Harry suppresses a smirk.

"Oh! _Really_? What do they do?" She asks excitedly, clapping her hands like a walrus.

Ron looks at her with smitten eyes, "Tara took Muggle Studies, and she's really fascinated."

"That's just _smashing_." Ginny inputs, very dryly.

I try to kick her from under the table, but I miss and hit Harry, who jumps, wincing.

Mouthing an apology, I glare at Ginny before smiling at an excited Tara, "They're dentists."

Luckily, our waiter comes back with our meals. We eat in silence while Ron and Tara babble on like the happy couple they are. She makes him happy so for that I have to like the girl...even if she's an idiot. When I snap from my thoughts she's pointing to the piece of asparagus on my plate, "Is that _broccoli?_"

Shakes my head, "No, it's asparagus…it's good."

Makes a face, "I just don't know how you can to eat _snails_…must be a Muggle thing."

Draco grabs my hand because he really knows me so well…and he _knows_ I'm about to embarrass this girl.

I mean, really? Does_ asparagus _look like _snails? _It's _green_ and it's a vegetable, for Merlin's sake! Is she for real? Is she really this blind and stupid? Yes! "Well…" I fix my lips anyway, stubbornly. Tara Molder is an barmy little idiot and I intend to tell her as much. Harry kicks me under the table. _Hard_. I curse under my breath, but it still doesn't deter me. "Actually—"

Draco shuts me up with a firm kiss and damn it if I don't drop my fork and forget what I'm going to say…

…I'm sure it would've been something really witty.

He pulls back and whispers in a voice I can only hear, _"If you can hold your tongue, I'll use mine."_

My face turns bright red and my insides turn to mush. It can be a threat or a promise…I don't care as long as it comes true.

"So sorry everyone," he apologises slickly, "Can't control myself sometimes…"

Everyone else watches the exchange. Ginny smirks. Harry chuckles. Tara swoons with a _"That's so romantic!"_ If only she knew. Ron looks a little disgusted at our sudden PDA, but I don't care. With his hand resting high on my thigh to silently remind me that under the table he can do whatever he wants, I thank Merlin I'm wearing pants this time and return to my meal and conversation resumes.

Of course I have to stifle myself when she says she hates that lettuce is so _"lettuce-y"_, when she brutalizes Ron's name into pet names (it's _worse_ than Lavender's), and talks about how she got so excited because the greatest thing happened to her…she bought dress robes in Diagon Alley for five galleons less because they were having a sale.

I swear Tara is under a constant cheering charm. She's so fascinated by everyone and everything…or maybe she huffs potions in her free time.

She's like a kid…with big boobs.

By the time she says, "I've always wondered what kidney pie was…oh, Hermione, does it have actual _kidneys_ in it?" I'm so bloody annoyed I'm ready to scream and hex her face off…I'm sure Ginny shares my thoughts. Draco's grip on my leg tightens and I look at him, at the same time Ginny looks at Harry.

I clench my teeth, offering what I hope is a convincing smile, "Kidney pie can be a little _misleading_…" I choke out.

She grins, "I'm so glad that someone as smart as _you_ has trouble with simple things too…"

"Actually—" Draco shoots me a look and I frown, "You're so right. Not easy being so smart…" I trail off, deflated and exasperated.

"Excuse me. I have to go to the loo," Ginny scoots out her chair.

"Yeah, I have to go too…" I smile, kiss Draco's cheek, and ignore his_ "don't leave me too long"_ look.

Should've let me embarrass the girl, git.

Ginny and I make a break, hand-in-hand (to stop her from running), to the loo. It's only after we get in and I make sure we're alone, that I put a silencing charm on the room, lock the door, and look at her. She reminds me of a tomato…a tomato that's about to explode. Messy.

"Breathe Gin."

Tetchily, "What makes you think I need to breathe?"

"Are you kidding? Another minute with Tara and you would've fought me for the right to jinx her first."

Irritated mumble, "Oh, really? I was thinking more of sending her running from her bogies around the restaurant. She's so lucky I don't have my wand…but I can get Harry's—"

"Even more of a reason for some deep breathing."

"She's a brainless moron."

"I don't disagree with you on that one. I could've suffocated on all the sarcastic comments I've had to suppress. I swear, I better get some amazing sex tonight for everything I've stopped myself from saying."

Ginny laughs, "Me too, damn it!" She stomps her foot, "She's so dense I feel my brain cells dying every single time she opens her mouth. And I _need_ my brain cells. I get to announce the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch game tomorrow."

"No more than I do…my parents are coming to my place tomorrow with my aunt...how does he manage to deal with that everyday? How long have they been dating?"

"A month…my brother is an idiot and he's a _boy_, only sees what's on the surface. And besides you, the girls he dates aren't even worth mentioning. Have you seen the girls he brings home? No, I mean, have you actually had a _conversation_ with them?"

"Not particularly," is my short reply. When they're not glaring at me for being his ex-girlfriend, they're ignoring me and staring at my boyfriend, that is, until Draco makes some callous comment that embarrasses them.

"I don't trust his judgment on dating as far as I can throw him…without magic."

"Well, I think we know _why_ he's dating Tara…" I trail off, smirking, making gestures to emphasize her large chest.

Chuckles, "You know they're charmed."

"_Ginny!_ That's horrible!"

"But it's true! I swear! She charms them based on what Ron likes and what looks good with her clothes. She told mum and me last week at dinner when you and Draco were away for the weekend."

I nearly die laughing.

After a few minutes of laughter and we're both taking deep breaths and fanning our flushed faces. "That was a good venting session…" I sigh, "do you think we can make it through dessert without needing another one?"

Ginny snorts, "I find that very doubtful."

Five minutes later, we're back at the table, waiting for dessert.

"So," Tara changes the subject minutes later, "Draco and Hermione..." she trails off.

Oh, this isn't going to be good.

"…when are you two going to get married?"

I feel the colour drain from my face…and it's followed by a quick and brutal blush. Draco and I haven't even discussed the subject in detail…at least, not since we started dating.

* * *

_(Two years ago)_

_I look up from filling out paperwork, randomly, "Malfoy…I have a question."_

_He's reading a book and replies absently, "And I suppose I have an answer."_

"_Cheeky little prat…" I roll my eyes when he smirks, "Anyway…do you ever want to settle down and get married?"_

"_Marriage is important to Malfoys…to preserve the family name. The idea of marriage has been instilled in me since before I can remember. So, yes, Granger, I guess I do plan to settle down and get married."_

"_Have anyone in mind?"_

_Malfoy looks at me for a long second, smirks, and returns to his book._

* * *

After coughing and clearing my throat a few times, I reply, "It's really complicated. We haven't been together—"

Draco cuts me off smoothly, "—very long. Hermione and I take marriage vows _very_ seriously. I'm not going to make a move until I'm certain we're_ both_ ready."

Ginny shakes her head, smiling, "Really, you two _have_ to stop that sentence-finishing thing. _Really_."

Tara nods at the answer, but I don't think she really understands what he's saying, so she presses on, "What about babies?"

Oh, now that's another one of those million galleon topics right there. Babies.

* * *

_(Two weeks ago)_

_We're snuggled in bed on Christmas Eve when Draco randomly asks, "Hermione, do you want to have kids? I distinctly remember you not wanting them—"_

"—_not with Ron, no…but recently, my mind has…changed some."_

_I don't actually see him smile, but I feel it against the back of my neck. _

_I do, however, hear the coyness in his voice when he speaks his next words in low tones, "Really now?"_

_Rolling over so we're face to face, I kiss him gently, "Yeah, it has."_

"_Well isn't this something…call the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, Granger wants to have my babies."_

_Playfully, "Hey! You little arrogant prat. I never said I wanted to have **yours**."_

"**_Right_**_, love, whatever works. I know you want to have my babies, who wouldn't? They'd be perfect, handsome, with perfect skin and perfect hair…just like their father…and who doesn't like perfection?" he's smirking the entire time. _

_Instead of punching him, I just laugh in his face, "Let's just hope our kids don't have your overpowering conceit."_

_Draco kisses my chin, "You love my arrogance and if you don't, you better get used to it because **all** our kids will have the Malfoy arrogance. It's hereditary, you see…"_

* * *

Of course, Draco has to open his mouth with those ridiculous names he told me that night, "Draco junior if it's a boy and Dracona if it's a girl."

Ginny and Harry start laughing. Ron cracks a smile. Tara thinks Dracona is a cute name.

Scoffing, I roll my eyes, "Draco junior is _completely_ narcissistic and Dracona sounds like a brand of meat tenderizer or something of _equal_ ridiculousness. By the way, you're a barmy flipping idiot if you think I'm naming _my_ kids after you."

"Our kids, love, our kids." He replies smartly.

Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I reply; a smile threatens to spread across my face, "Shut up."

"Well, Ron and I want to have six kids," Tara starts. Harry's eyes get so large they threaten to take over his entire face and Ginny looks horrified at the thought of those two reproducing. Ron just smiles and nods, "Three boys named after three of Ron's favourite Quidditch players: Viktor, Galvin, and Troy…and three girls named after three of my favourite fruits: Melon, Strawberry, and…oh yes, Cherry."

You could've heard a pin drop, I swear.

Disturbed, we sit in silence until dessert comes.

* * *

_(Three hours later)_

"I happen to think I've been a _very_ good girl tonight."

Draco's low chuckle fills my ears as he helps me out of my coat and hangs it on the coat rack with his. He kisses my cheek just before I walk off, through the foyer, waving my wand to start the fireplace and summon ice-cream, spoons, and chocolate topping from the kitchen. I've just finished scooping ice-cream from the carton into a single bowl with my wand and sending the carton back into the freezer, when I feel familiar hands around my waist.

Nibbles on my earlobe, "Now, _what_ do we have here?"

"A little ice-cream treat for us," I murmur back, closing my eyes.

Lips move slowly down to my neck, sucking the skin softly, "Nice, but it's not the _treat_ I had in mind," and with a wave of his wand the ice-cream and spoons vanish.

Next, he transfigures a spare blanket on the floor into a mattress with sheets and pillows. The feel of his lips, moving along my neck, kissing the back of my neck, sucking just under my hairline, it's making the world go hazy again. He's commanding, authoritative, and I think I like this as much as he does.

"Strip."

It's a simple request, no, wait, it's an order…and I'm good at following orders.

"Lay down. On your stomach."

Next thing I know, I'm naked and hugging a pillow, softly groaning as he massages the skin of my back, digging fingers and kissing all the right spots. Merlin, whatever I did to deserve this, I'm so bloody happy I did—his tongue travels up the length of my spine…from the base…to the peak. Damn, I'm so hot. Hot all over…and it's not from the fire.

I'm beginning to think I really may need some of that ice cream when this is all over.

"Roll over."

Again, another order. I'm compliant.

"Close your eyes."

I listen…and he blindfolds me anyway.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

I'm burning up so the feel of something cold dripping on my stomach, on my nipples, startles me to the point where I try to move, but Draco effectively holds me down with a firm, "Stay still."

I open my mouth to finally protest, but the feel of his warm tongue licking the cold off my skin stops me. I realise what it is in that instant. The fucking chocolate sauce.

Sweet Merlin, I _love_ this man. Gasping, my back arches into him as his tongue works expertly to rid my skin of every drop of chocolate he dripped on it. Damn, can he do it _again? _And again? I'm completely breathless and savage with need. Being blindfolded makes it a million times better and worse, all at the same time.

Now, I know what they mean now when they say the rest of your senses are heightened when one is missing.

I _feel_ everything, his hands moving all over my body, touching me like I'm the most precious thing on this earth; his breath on my stomach right before his lips touches it. I _smell_ everything, chocolate and cologne blend to make the most exquisite scent, one that even when I'm old I'll always remember. I _hear_ everything, his quiet moans and the sound the zipper of his pants makes as he strips down to nothing. And when he rewards me with a deep kiss, I taste everything, the chocolate and wine on his lips from dessert and I try to hold him there, try to make this kiss last forever, but he pulls away gently.

"Not now, love."

Not now? When?

"I'm going to do this…until the end."

Sweet Merlin, yes!

The next feel of his lips and tongue on my body sends shivers up and down my spine, sends waves of pleasure bursting through every vein in my body like one epic internal detonation. I reach out to touch him, but he stops me…just like I did this morning. _Bastard._

His lips move, clasping on to one of my hard nipples and even in the darkness I still see those damn colours bursting though my head. Reds. Oranges. Blues. I swear the moan I let out is one long, continuous moan while his tongue flicks over and around my nipple and his lips suck gently. The moan doesn't stop when he does the same thing to the other nipple. I want him so bad it hurts. While he sucks up the chocolate sauce on the second nipple, his thumb and forefinger close around the first. He pinches the distended flesh and tugs, my neck arches.

The next twenty minutes are filled with more dripping, licking, sucking, and thumb-flicking to the point where I'm close to losing my mind. It feels so good. Like paradise in the middle of winter. Letting my eyes drift close, my mind wanders briefly, thinking of the countless time we've made love, thinking of how much I've learned from being with him, and thinking of how much he's learned from being with me.

I may not be too experienced, but he's by far the best I've ever had. He's versatile and men like him are rare. Sometimes, like now, he cares only for my pleasure. Gentle touches, caresses, and he builds me up slowly, it's like a crescendo of emotions. Sometimes he likes it rough. Sometimes he likes it quick. Sometimes he likes to draw it out. Sometimes, he's a mixture. Sometimes he doesn't even fit any of the descriptions.

…he spreads my legs, licking up a line of chocolate sauce down my stomach. He comes back up and kisses his way back down the same path.

Moaning, "This is torture."

He just chuckles.

Draco knows my body like no other. He knows my sweetest spots and somehow he manages to find spots I didn't even know existed, like the flesh on the back of my knees, my wrist, the curve of my spine…

…he flicks the tip of his tongue over my sensitive clit repeatedly.

I gasp, gripping the sheets in my fists, "_Draco!_"

Another chuckle and he continues.

It's almost too much for me to handle.

Oh, damn, just the memories of all our times together make my body awaken fully, nipples are even harder, and my body just melts I feel the vibration of his multiple moans on my clit he's now sucking on. I'm out of control, bucking and moaning and fisting the sheets. I try to scoot away to make it last longer, but he has a firm grip on my legs that lets me know it's futile to run.

"You taste wonderful, Hermione, don't move...I'm enjoying my dessert."

Holy shit.

Just _knowing_ that Draco finds me beautiful, just _knowing_ that he makes me feel sexy, just _knowing_ that he makes me feel powerful…it's one of the best feelings ever…

His tongue manipulates me expertly, doing just what I need to make this orgasm crash into me.

Throatily, "Do you like this?"

Moaning, "Oh, hell yes."

I hear and feel his small chuckle right before he gets back to work.

Those lips and tongue love me until I'm writhing on the sheets beneath him, whimpering and panting and blood pounding through my body. My fingers are twisted in his hair so tight that I'm sure he won't be able to lift his head if he tries. My back is arched, pressing his mouth exactly where I want him to be.

Draco shifts, slides his hand between us, and slips one long finger into me…and I would've flipped over if he didn't have a firm grip on my waist. Shit, as long as I want this to go on, it's not going to last. I feel my orgasm coming quick, moans increasing as my vision blurs. He presses his fingers deep inside, then out, and then in again with two fingers. As he fingers me thoroughly, my breath leaves…and those fucking breathy whimpers change into outright cries of pleasure.

"I want you to do something for me, Granger." His voice is so fucking sexy right now I can't even stand it.

There's so much I want to say, but I can't think of the words. I want to ask him what he wants me to do, but it comes out in a crazy moan.

My body tightens; he's fucking relentless with his fingers…and now his tongue. My muscles grip his fingers, pulling them deeper. My head starts to spin. My heart starts to race. It's coming. Closer and closer and—

He commands, "Come, just for me."

My grip on his hair tightens as I do as I'm told, the orgasm is almost blinding it feels so damn good. Crying out, I explode into ecstasy beneath him, back completely off the bed, and body completely afire. It's intense, so fucking intense I feel the tears in my eyes. A few seconds later, Draco manages to pry himself free from me, takes the blindfold off, and sinks down on top of me, snuggling on top of my body as my body rides the waves. His lips find mine and I'm kissing him deeply, intensely, clinging to him desperately as tremors and aftershocks hit and wane.

Damp skin, knotted legs, facing each other, his lips all over my face and neck…we stay like this a while, quiet and content with just _being_.

I'm half asleep when he whispers, "Love?"

An exhausted mumble, "Hmm?"

"I have a question."

I reply in my best impression of Draco Malfoy, "And I _suppose_ I have an answer."

He snorts, "Who's the cheeky prat now?"

Yawning, "I learned from the best."

Arrogantly, "This is true. I _am_ the best."

Contorting my back, I stretch a little, rolling my eyes and ignoring him, "So, what was your question?"

He pauses for a minute, then asks, "What's wrong with the name Dracona?"

I find myself laughing weakly, "Well, it _is_ better than naming our daughter something absurd like _Melon_."


	16. Will You Still Love Me?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: Sadly, the scene with Tara is totally based off reality...in what was a horrible double date about 2 years ago. Yes, the girl, who makes me want to _throw a chair_ at her everytime I _see_ her, did say my asparagus looked like snails and asked me if kidney beans were made with real kidneys..._shudders_.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

_(Four months later: April 14th)_

Sometimes, I think my mum talks just because she likes the sound of her own voice. I wonder sometimes if she fears that her voice is equivalent to my piano skills, it'll disappear if left unused…like her mouth will forget how to express words, extensive knowledge, or experiences.

Draco says I get that from her…the inability to shut up. I may narrow my eyes at him, but all in all, he's telling the truth…

Last month was another turning point in our relationship. Draco put his house up for sale and moved into mine in what was probably a rash decision, but it's been working out really well for us.

I mean, it was to the point where he's spending every night with me, in addition to every weekend, so we figured why not just bite the bullet and live together. Besides, he lives so deep in the suburbs and I live closer to our job. The decision doesn't come with an argument; he just walks up to me one day and says, _"So I decided we should probably live together,"_ and it's perfect because I swear I was thinking the same thing. It's the perfect test to our ten-month relationship…and I really like waking up to him every morning. I like that best.

After this decision and the move, we decided to invite my parents over one nice Saturday for a mid-morning breakfast.

* * *

_(Two weeks ago)_

_Mum takes two steps through the door and gasps, "Oh, this place is so charming now! It used to be so plain, but it's nice to see what a little flavour a man can bring into the house and what a little paint on the walls can do to brighten things up. I'm shocked!"_

"_As your mum said in so **few **words, it is very nice darling," dad sarcastically fills in a few moments later._

_Draco slips his hand into mine, smirking. I'm glad they like it because I love my house now. We just finished setting everything in order last night in preparation of today. Each room has its own colour that blends into the next room, it starts out a green in the foyer and ends up yellow in the kitchen, with reds and blues between. It's wonderful. Draco's presence is noticeable throughout the house. From the look of the office we share, to some of the paintings on the wall, and even to the laid-back den – he manages to blend his things in with mine. _

_Mum stands in front of the Vermeer painting (one of the many paintings) hanging in the living room, "This is such an enchanting painting…is it the original?"_

"_Yes," replies Draco, looking at the painting himself._

_She continues to compliment on everything, noting the theme and that all the pieces in this room are painted by Baroque artists…just like all the paintings in the foyer are den are by Impressionist, paintings in the office are abstract, and paintings in the dining room are by wizards, but only we can see them move. _

_Yes, we're strange like that, but dammit, we work._

_We have one Monet painting on the living room wall, but we have a few pictures sitting on the mantle of our fireplace (maybe six) of us together from some of our dates, some of the Ministry events, some random ones from the Daily Prophet that were pretty good, and some Muggle ones. _

_We have a few pictures of our friends too. We're still working on this room, but I think it's nice… simple…and cosy._

_The Matisse painting he gave to me before we started dating hangs in our bedroom over our bed. _

"_Wow. Lovely…just lovely…"_

* * *

That afternoon, mum spent an hour and a half talking about how great it to be there, Draco's fine addition to my simple little house, the importance of co-habiting these days, how well-behaved Crookshanks is, how great it was that dad and Draco got along so well, how wonderful the food tasted, how great my master bedroom and bathroom looked...

She talked from the time she walked through the door to the time her pager went off and she said she and dad had to leave and do an emergency root canal on a patient.

So tonight, after spending the entire day with them, mum sits quietly on my couch, smiling like the batty person she can be sometimes, and I'm a bit on edge.

"Mum, are you alright? You've been quiet since lunch," I ask once dad and Draco take a breath from discussing the latest problems with the prime Minister.

More specifically, she's been quiet since I returned from the bathroom at the Italian restaurant we went to for lunch; she and dad were disagreeing about something or the other when I left so I chalked it up to that, but she's _too _quiet.

Shaking her head, mum smiles, "Oh, no reason at all, honey…"

Worriedly, "Are you sure?"

"I'm just a bit tired, hon."

Appeased, my face breaks out in a smile. I'm a little tired too.

"It's been such a lovely day with you both," mum says, looking at her watch, "but I think we should head on out before it gets too late. We have a busy day tomorrow."

They're leaving for their vacation in Greece tomorrow. It's the first one for them in years…and our anniversary gift to them…of course it was Draco's suggestion. I was going to buy them a nice encyclopaedia set when he approached me about the idea.

Not only are they spending two weeks in beautiful Greece, but we've set them up with activities, tours, and tickets to shows and games. It's the vacation of a lifetime. Mum cried when we gave her the gift; dad tried to play it cool, but I saw his eyes mist. He'll never admit it though.

When Draco hugs my mum and dad, I note a silent exchange between the three of them that's confusing, but I pay no mind to it. He disappears into the kitchen, probably to get some cookies I just finished baking. It's only after he's gone that mum beams at me, way too excited, "Honey, we'll see you when we get back. We should have lunch during the week…call us."

"I will," I smile at my mum's excitement. She must be excited about her trip. "Love you guys."

After more hugs and kisses from mum and dad, I finally find myself alone in the empty foyer, watching them back out of my driveway and drive off into the night. I don't realise I'm still standing there, staring out of the screen door until warm arms wrap around me and Draco nuzzles against my neck.

I could get used to this, I really could.

Nothing in my life has ever felt so comfortable, so real, so right, so raw. Everyday isn't perfect, but being with him is as close to perfection as I'll ever be.

Draco doesn't have to tell me anything for me to know.

When I announced my resignation (effective this coming August) in the press conference with the Daily Prophet last week, explaining my reasoning and revealing my true passion I know he's proud to be with me because I feel his eyes on me the entire time…and a tiny shiver always runs up my spine. I know when he pulls me back into the bed every morning, he doesn't want not to ravish me (although he knows he can…and sometimes I want him to), he wants to hold me in his arms while I rest my head on his heart. I know he loves the feel of me in his arms.

When I'm sampling the food I'm cooking for dinner, I _know_ he shutters helpless because it turns him on when I lick the corners of my mouth. On days when I'm trying to be too perfect, I know he hates it when I stress so he holds me flush against him. I also know that I have just enough breath for one gasp before he snogs me senselessly and perfectly until I can no longer see straight, much less remember what I was stressing about.

* * *

_(Last month)_

"_You're quiet."_

_I am. _

_We've been sitting on the beach for the last hour, just staring out in the horizon for no particular reason at all. For this trip, we took a Portkey to __Aruba__ to get out a snow blanketed __London__, much to the jealousy of Ginny. The azure water is perfect, this day is perfect, and this wizarding hotel we're staying in is perfect. Let's not forget this fruity drink I'm sipping on is perfect too…everything is just perfect. So why do I feel…down?_

"_Hermione," Draco's voice is low when he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, "What's wrong?" _

_I sigh._

_Really, I shouldn't feel like this. I'm in paradise. Oh, and the sun! Between the rain and snow, I haven't seen the sun in weeks and it's beaming down on me now, like its six feet in front of me, waving. _

_Cheerful shrieks break me from my reverie, eyes instantly averting to a boy and a girl, both brunettes, no older than five or possibly six, building sand castles with their parents watching them nearby…and my eyes water. I feel really silly for crying, for watching something so innocent. I feel silly for a lot of things right now, to be perfectly honest. "Nothing…"_

"_Liar," he grumbles, a little annoyed._

_I wonder what the hell is wrong with me as tears continue to cascade down my cheeks. We aren't ready for anything new and as much as I know this, as ridiculous as I feel and look crying in paradise, I wonder if it's me…and what I'm doing wrong. Peering back over, I watch the kids run down to the water's edge and scoop up wet sand to bring back and sculpt. _

_As they run off, I hear their father tell them not to go too far and I wipe the tears from my eyes, sniffling._

_He hears me and I physically feel him tense. I know he hates it when I'm upset, "Her—"_

_Interrupting, "Stop, please…"_

"_Just tell me what's wrong…"_

"_I'm being completely barmy again. You know how I get sometimes…"_

_He chuckles, "True."_

_I playfully swat his knee, smiling through my tears, "Prat."_

_Playfully, "The one and only, but it's nice to see you smile again."_

_I flash another smile, this one is completely real. Sinking back against him, I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. I love how he makes me smile when I feel like nothing in the world will ever make me happy again. _

"_Love, tell me what's been bothering you all week."_

_Heaving a sigh, "I took a test and I failed."_

_Confused, he's aghast, "What are you talking about? You don't fail. What was the test?"_

_I look over my shoulder at him with sad eyes, "A pregnancy test."_

_Draco's breath catches in his throat and his eyes fill with understanding and when he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion, "Oh, Hermione," he pulls me close and I just fade into him, "Is that what this is all about?"_

_I nod solemnly, "I know we aren't even at that point, but I thought…I really hope you're not mad—"_

"_Mad? Why would I be mad?"_

"_We haven't been together long and—"_

"_If anything I'm disappointed that you're not pregnant, not mad…never mad."_

* * *

Some people, mainly the readers of Witch Weekly, still don't understand why I'm with the calm and semi-rude Draco Malfoy and they probably never will. Just because he's not saying _"I love you"_ to me every time they interview us, or every second of every day, just because he doesn't scream his undying love for me from the rooftops doesn't mean that he doesn't…because he does.

I don't need words to prove to me just how much he loves me. He proves it with his actions…

People never get to see the side of him that he exposes to me. They never see seemingly innocent touches wracked with underlying affection and meaning. They don't see how new batches of flowers appear on my desk _every_ Friday morning without fail that always start my day off just right. I don't hate Fridays so much anymore and it's all because of him.

They don't see the little meaningful gifts, the way he looks at me, or the way his face lights up when I walk into his office. They don't hear the appreciation in his voice when I do something special for him after a hard day, the way he says my name in his sleep, or way he brags about me to some of the people in the department or even to our friends (don't tell him I heard him).

They see nothing. They hear nothing. They know nothing…

"What's going on in your head tonight, love?" Draco whispers in my ear softly.

Damn, I sink back into him and it's like we've moulded into one. It's one of the best feelings on earth. "Nothing, I'm just thinking…"

"You think too much."

Smiling, "I know…and you should too…it's been ten months…close to a year."

I feel his deep chuckle against the side of my head as he drops a kiss there, "True."

Merlin, it really _is_ close to a year since we started dating. Time has really flown on us. Days have blended into weeks, weeks into months, and the next thing we'll know we'll be celebrating our first anniversary. One year. I swear it was just yesterday when I was standing outside my car in his arms with those mutant bats flying around in my stomach, not wanting to leave his arms for a second.

The way he makes me feel and the feelings I have for him have not diminished, in fact they've grown…they continue to grow everyday. There's just no stopping them.

"Where have you gone to?"

"Not too far," I assure him softly.

This is comfortable. As long as I'm with him, I could stand here in this foyer like this forever and I'd still be perfectly satisfied. He's dropping kisses all over my face and I close my eyes, sighing when he wraps me tighter in his arms. I grin to myself and snuggle against him more. This is contentment. This is peace...and in his arms, I've found my home.

Draco whispers, "_Hermione_," in my ear and I shiver, but not as hard as he is. Gently, he turns me around in his arms and kisses me gently, tenderly, cupping my face, and stroking my cheek. For the life of me, I can't seem to figure out why he's shaking.

He kisses me with so much passion, so much emotion that I can't possibly discern what I'm feeling right now because it's too much, all these emotions are too much. Merlin, there's so much threatening to spill from me right now that I can't even begin to speak. All I can do is rest my hands on his waist, and all I can do is kiss him back, hoping to convey to him exactly what I'm feeling right now…exactly what I feel for him, but as soon as I start to respond, Draco pulls away.

He smiles…almost nervously, "You know I love you, right?"

No hesitation, "Yes."

"I know I don't say it enough, I know that I could say it more, I know that I'm not perfect…but I do. I love you. It's probably one of the few things in my life that I'm totally and completely certain about…"

He's rambling. He _never_ rambles.

Raking a hand through his blonde hair, he takes my hands softly, holding them in his, kissing them.

He does that when he's nervous.

All of that.

The hair raking. The hand kissing. The rambling. He does that all the time when we're together and he's anxious.

Of course, I would've never known if I hadn't paid attention the night he met my parents. Draco clears his throat. Another nervous habit. I've never seen him this bad. He never gets nervous, but his hands are slightly shaking in mine.

I'm instantly worried, but I confidently smile back, "I'm glad to know that, Draco."

"To be honest, I'm glad you do too. I know that some people want to hear it everyday—"

Merlin, he's shaking bad, "You don't have to…you prove it all the time, everyday."

He cracks a confident smile, "I decided to accept the promotion…and take over your job when you transfer."

I smile back, trying to lighten the mood with a light-hearted reply, "I knew you would. I am Hermione Granger, after all. I _do_ know everything."

He snickers and I'm relieved to see him regain some of his smugness, "Right,_ sure_ you do…and while we're on this topic, I happen to know a lot of things too, Hermione Granger," he says my entire name coyly.

Teasingly, I play right back, "And what's that, Draco Malfoy?"

Grins, "I know that I hate the way you bite your nails. I hate when you slurp on your milkshake when you _know_ it's bloody gone. I hate when you stick that damn quill of yours behind your ear. I hate that you really are smarter than I am and you have no clue just how hard that was to admit just now. I hate when you crack your toes in your sleep. I hate that you make me wash the dishes. I hate that the simple act of you taking off your jacket turns me on. I hate the way you suck on sugar quills…I swear you do it to tease me…and Merlin does it work. I hate that you refuse to let me do our laundry magically..."

I probably should be frowning, but I find myself smiling like mad, almost laughing.

He gets serious, "What I really hate is that I'm shaking and rambling in front of you right now. I hate that I can be so bloody calm and all you have to do is walk into the room and I'm undone. I can't stand it, Granger…I _can't_…I had this stupid little speech made up…I was going to wait until our anniversary in June, I was going to do it up really nice, but when your mum and dad gave me permission in the restaurant—I realised I didn't want to wait."

Permission for what? The more he talks now, the harder I stare, confused, "W—"

"I don't want to get all sentimental and poetic and talk about how destiny brought us together because sentimental is _not _who I am. I want to go on and tell you that I always knew it was you and me, that I always knew we'd be perfect, that I always knew I loved you, but that would be a lie…and right now, I'm not going to bullshit you. I'm just going to be honest…"

_What in the bloody hell is he ranting on about?_

"Hermione, I may not have loved you when we first met as kids, I may not have even liked you as we grew up, I may have made fun of you, called you the m-word, made your teeth grow, and nearly got you killed a few times, but right here and right now, I can't imagine living without you, in fact, I don't even want to think about it, in all honesty…"

_Merlin…he's not, no, no of course he's not—oh shit, he is._

"I had this long speech written telling you how much you mean to me, but I don't think words can express it. All I can say is, thirty, forty, and maybe fifty years from now, I want you to remember tonight. I want you to remember everything, what you were wearing, what _I_ was wearing...that the house smells like fresh-baked cookies and your mum was really quiet tonight. I want you to remember that I was the one shaking and you were the one who was really calm because, chances are, when I retell this story I'm going to switch it around..."

_Oh, damn._

I'm immobile, yet slightly trembling with excitement as Draco pulls a blue velvet box from his pocket. His eyes are on me the entire time he carefully opens the box, revealing what looks like a family heirloom, judging from the _M_ that's literally encrusted _in_ the diamond on a platinum band. Holy shit. It's huge! I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe? My right hand goes to my chest and I hear myself gasp.

He removes the ring from the box, "Beautiful, huh?"

I nod wordlessly.

"It was my mothers' and it'll be yours…if you will, that is…"

My mind is swimming from his words, from the smell of fresh-baked cookies, from everything, "What—"

Draco takes my left hand in his and gets down on one knee, slowly, not taking his eyes off me for a second. Tears start rolling down my cheeks unexpectedly. I'm damn close to hyperventilating. I cover my mouth, hands shaking just as hard as he was a few minutes ago. I know what's he's going to do, what's he's asking, and I'm ready for this now. I'm just ready. This feels right. Like we're meant to be right here, right now, him on his knee, me crying. It's right. It's perfect.

He looks up at me, "This ring will be yours, Hermione, if you wish to marry me. Will you?"

This time around, I don't hesitate, "Yes."


	17. I Could Not Ask For More

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Author's Note: I want to give a large THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, told me what they liked, hated, and was confused by. I would thank a beta, but I don't have one, poor me. I started this fic out of sheer boredom and a thought. I'm glad I did. It's really inspired me to get back to writing, researching, and plotting.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

_(Ten years later)_

There is an end to every story and this is mine.

I feel as if the first half of my life is over. Like in one of those long novels that have part one all about the past, then it ends, and part two begins, and it's about the present and future. That's me now…all about the present and future.

But let's take a journey to the past, for old time's sake.

* * *

_(Our one year anniversary)_

"_What in the hell did he just say?"_

_Okay, I'll confess I've been the typical bride-to-be: in love with myself as a bride and totally barmy the morning of my wedding because nothing seems to be going right. We decided to have a Muggle wedding because of my family and let's just say…I never realised just how much effort and time go into the planning and execution of a wedding…without a wand. _

_It's maddening._

_Ginny tries to comfort me, "Nothing, Hermione. You just head right along back there and get dressed."_

_But I'm not hearing any of what she has to say and approach the man, "Did you just say the room was ruined?"_

_He turns, sees me, and goes pale. "No, not at all."_

"_Look here, mister, and look here good. Tell me what the hell is wrong with the ballroom? My damn reception is in there!"_

_Seeing my hardened stature, the man speaks (albeit, against his better judgment and Harry's shaking head) to try to break it to me calmly, "There were just a few minor problems."_

"_Like?" I ask, leaning forward, hands planted on my hips._

_He tries to ease into the sentence. "Umm…there was a teeny problem with the system early this morning. And the sprinklers went off in the ballroom." Seeing my eyes bulge out, he tries to soothe his voice as he continues, "And the rug is ruined. As well as the chairs…and tablecloths…and chairs…and centrepieces…and some of the flowers."_

_Exhaling the breath I'm holding, I freak, "Oh, my, God."_

"_Miss. Granger, its okay. We're just going to move you to the Greek Room." The grey hared man says, trying to comfort me._

"_The Greek Room? That's like two-thirds the size of the Plaza," I groan, "I have a guest list of over 200. We can't **all** fit in there." In a moment, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to Harry and Ginny, "This is a nightmare."_

"_No, it's not," Harry comforts as the man scampers off. _

_Ginny whips out her wand and slyly smirks, "Let **us** handle it the best way we know how."_

* * *

Merlin, just thinking about that morning makes me angry.

As the morning progressed, we found out what else went wrong. The hair stylists we called upon brought one less than we hired. The cake was no longer white, as changed the day before from chocolate, it was looking to be yellow. I was waiting for the call telling me the cake was going to be strawberry or something ridiculous. Two of the cooks were running late, and thus prolonging the hors d'oeuvre preparation, thus prolonging each of the five courses in the dinner. We didn't have a DJ anymore.

And_ Tara_, who Ron practically _forced_ me to put as a bridesmaid, was nowhere to be seen.

The only bright side of that morning was the fact that Harry, Ginny, and the entire Weasley family, minus Ron, fixed the reception room.

* * *

_(Same day)_

_Something sparks my eardrums and I bolt to the door when I hear voices in the hallway. Knowing full well who it is, I swing open the door and pull at __Tara__'s arm, bringing her out of her intense snog with a red-faced Ron._

_In a curt voice, I say, "Thanks for having her back in time, you piece of shit! I'd fucking murder you, Ron, I really would…but I'll spare your **arse** and your **life** because it's my wedding day!" And I slam the door in his face before he can say anything else._

_Shoving __Tara__ in the chair, I don't care that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny are standing there with their mouths ajar, I start ranting and raving, "Listen to me and listen to me good. I don't plan on **ever** getting married, ever again. This is the **one **day for me and you've already helped ruin it by being late. I asked you to be here nearly three hours ago."_

"_But—" __Tara__ tries to break in before I cut her off savagely._

"_My dress is three inches too short and we spent an hour fixing it magically. The cake is no longer chocolate like my family wanted. It's not even the flavour I fell back on just yesterday. Today, I had to take a yellow cake. I just had **eight** wizards and witches fix my reception back up from the fiasco earlier with the sprinkler mishap. The stylists are short-handed. The cooks are slow. You are three hours late! Nothing," I begin to yell with emotion dripping off my words, "**Nothing** is going to ruin this day for me! Now, sit in that bloody chair and let this nice wizard do your fucking hair and don't say **another** word to me until after we say the words, "I do." Do you comprehend?"_

_Tara__ releases the air in her lungs she held during the tirade with enlarged eyes. _

"_Now," I pop my knuckles rather calmly, "Where was I?" _

_Mrs. Weasley and my mum clear their throats simultaneously, but my mum speaks, "I think the dress was next…"_

"_Dress it is."_

* * *

But it was all worth it, in the end.

All the hell, the stress, and even the tears are worth it…getting married to Draco that day made _everything_ worth it.

* * *

_(Same day)_

"_Do you, Draco Malfoy, take Hermione Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, until death do you part?"_

_He smiles confidently, "She may be an insufferable know-it-all bookworm, who's completely barmy most of the time…and was nervous the entire time I proposed, but of course I do. I love you."_

_A few guests chuckle and I find myself chuckling too. Always has to go above and beyond, that one. Little liar. He's been telling that one since we got engaged. In all fairness, he did warn me that he would retell the story._

"_Do you, Hermione Granger, take Draco Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, until death do you part?"_

"_He may be the most presumptuous, spoiled, narcissistic, annoying, megalomaniac I've ever met, and is a little lying ferret because he was the one who was nervous, but, of course I do. I love you too."_

* * *

Love.

Some people say it moves mountains. Others say it makes the world go around. Some people even put all their faith in it. Some people say it hurts. Clichés? That may be the case, but, as I lay here in his arms over ten years after our wedding, I think about how far love has brought us and I can safely say that some sayings, no matter how clichéd they are, still hold truth.

Love has made me into the person I am today. I'm happy. I'm content. I'm living the life I want and I'm being exactly who I want to be. But sadly, life doesn't always go as planned. Draco and I didn't just get married and live happily ever after in wedded bliss. No.

I wish…but no.

It's been a bumpy road.

The first year of our marriage was the roughest year of my life. Between two miscarriages that nearly tore us apart, getting past my own jealousy of Ginny when Albus was born, and working long hours in the ministry, Draco and I fought and cried and screamed and yelled and pulled our own hair in frustration…

…but we made it…

…and he _didn't_ walk away.

* * *

_(Eight years ago)_

"_One more push, Mrs. Malfoy, you're doing great!"_

_Laboriously, I cry out, panting and sobbing in pain, "I can't! I can't push anymore! It hurts!"_

_Draco squeezes my hand, "Come on love. Squeeze my hand as hard as you want. You can do this."_

"_Easy for **you** to say that! You're not having a bloody baby!"_

"_You can—" _

"_No, I can't! I'm not ready to be a mother!" _

"_Yes you are! You read all the ruddy books, you made me read all those ruddy books, we took all the classes, baby-proofed the new house down to the ruddy spark plug, you're ready, Hermione. We're ready. We've been waiting two years for this."_

_Sobbing, "I'm scared."_

"_Don't cry, okay. I hate it when you cry…you're a bloody Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. You're brave, braver than I am. Just breathe, okay. Breathe." He starts taking slow, dramatic breaths so I can mimic him. We've been at this twelve hours and I just want to go to sleep. I just want this to be done. I just want the pain to stop. I'm a fool for not taking the pain-relieving potion. _

_Okay, I take a deep and shaky breath. _

_Then another. And another before I feel myself start to calm down…for the most part, "Okay…okay…I can do this. You're right. I'm a Gryffindor. I have courage and all that other bullshit. I'm calm. Let's do this. I'm ready. **We're** ready. Let's bring __Addison__ into the world."_

"_Ready?" The Medi-witch asks._

_I nod wordlessly._

"_Okay, Hermione, I need you to push…right now."_

_So I push…and scream…and struggle as hard as I can. And just when I think I can't go on any further, just when I feel like I'm dying…a small cry fills the room. Just a small one…and I stop and collapse back on the bed, knowing everything will be okay._

_The Medi-witch holds up the baby, "It's a girl and she's beautiful!"_

* * *

Yes, we have a child, wait…_children_.

_Three_ children to be exact.

And none of them are name Dracona. _Bleh_.

Addison Narcissa Malfoy is the eldest at eight. She has his grey eyes, bushy dirty blonde hair, and his nose. She may have quite a few of my personality traits, in fact Draco calls her "mini-me", but Addison walks like him, laughs like him, glares like him, smiles like him…she even has a touch of his arrogance. But, thanks mainly in part to me, she has a reason to be…she's _brilliant_, very well-spoken, adventurous, very curious, and _loves_ to read…

…I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

* * *

_(Three months ago)_

"_Mummy! Daddy!" __Addison__ bursts through the door and launches herself onto our bed. It's well past her bedtime and she's holding a book I'm very familiar with, The Tales of Beetle the Bard. She climbs up between me and Draco, opens the book, and looks at us, excitedly, "Is it true? Is it true?"_

"_Is what true, sweetheart?" Draco ruffles her hair and drops a kiss on her head lovingly._

"_The story, daddy?" She rolls her eyes like he's the most ridiculous person alive for asking such a silly question…exactly the way he rolls his eyes at me._

_I finger the pages. I haven't looked at this book in years, "Where did you get this book from, sweetie?"_

"_I found it, this morning, in the library." She's distracted with turning the pages, "Is it true, mummy?"_

"_Yes, it is."_

"_Is that why Uncle Harry has a blanket that makes him invisible?"_

_Draco and I exchange looks. He mouths, 'How does she know that?' and I just shrug, stunned._

"_Umm…yes, but how did **you** know that?"_

"_Albus was too scared to go exploring last month. He said he didn't want to get in trouble so James went with me when he came home for the Christmas holiday. We found it. It was locked in—" she cuts herself off, realizing she's said too much. __Addison__ blushes and looks at Draco and tries to turn on the charm with her captivating smile…did I mention it's an evil little captivating smile? "Nevermind, forget what I said. It was nothing daddy."_

"_Oh, no you don't, little lady," he smirks and I know Draco is trying not to pump his fists and cheer for her very Slytherin behaviour. He presses with a stern, but smooth, "Where was it locked? Tell us."_

_She pouts, reluctantly replying, "In a chest."_

_More questions, "How'd you get it open?"_

_Addison shrugs innocently, still blushing, "I promise, I just pointed at it and it opened…with James's new wand."_

_Draco covers his smirk with a stern look, "You used magic? You could've hurt yourself, Addison. What did we tell you about—"_

"_I know, I know, daddy, but James didn't know the spell and I did…am I in trouble?"_

* * *

Three years later, Benjamin Draco Malfoy was born…and _boy_ did Draco put up a fight to make him a junior.

But we came to a compromise. Ben looks more like me than Draco anyway, so ha! Light brown hair, brown eyes, and soft facial features. He's terribly clever, too curious, smart, ambitious, intuitive, and seemingly innocent…too bad he's not. He's the one I always have to keep an eye on; he's always up to something.

We already know he's going to be a Slytherin hell-raiser…and Draco couldn't be prouder.

* * *

_(Last month)_

_I'm stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce, adding spices and tasting it when I hear the front door close. I quickly drain the noodles, turn the temperature down on the sauce to let it simmer, and check on Addison who is setting the table with two extra spots for Albus and Lilly, who are spending the week here while Harry and Ginny vacation to Vienna. James is in his first year at Hogwarts, a Gryffindor and already stirring up trouble worthy of Fred and George. _

_She sits down the last fork and looks up for approval, "Mummy…is this good?"_

_I kiss her head and pat her unruly hair down, "Perfect, sweetie. Run along and tell everyone dinner is ready."_

_Addison nods obediently, scoops her book off the chair, and runs off, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Dinner's ready! Dinner's ready!"_

_Shaking my head, I chuckle to myself and head back to the kitchen to put the sauce and noodles in bowls to set on the table. I'm in the middle of finding a spoon when I feel hands. Big hands. Husband hands, that wraps around my waist and pulls me gently into him. Turning around in his arms, I lift up to kiss Draco quickly, but it turns into a full on snog sessions that has me pressed against the refrigerator. _

_When he finally pulls away, I smile breathlessly. Merlin, I've never gotten used to those greetings. Never._

"_You're home early. How was your day?" I ask, closing my eyes when he starts nuzzling._

"_All right, I suppose. People were particularly stupid today so I decided to leave. I had a nasty little meeting with your Secondary, **please** fire that man."_

_Stubbornly, "I'm not going to fire him because **you** don't like him."_

"_Okay, so fire him because he knows nothing about magical creatures…**and** because he's a git."_

"_What did he do?"_

"_Well, it's about the Martin house elves case. You know…the ones who taught their kids unforgivable curses using their house elves," I nod, very familiar with that case, "Well," Draco continues, "I asked him for the report because it goes to Wizengamot next week and he tells me that not only has he **not** finished his report, but he knows **nothing** about the case that our departments have been working on collectively for the last month."_

_My eyebrow threatens to touch the sky, "He, what—"_

"_Exactly, love…next time you decide to take a week off, please let it be a week **I **can take off too. That way, when the ministry goes to hell, I won't be there to witness it."_

_I smile and kiss him again, "You sound stressed."_

_Gruffly, "I am."_

"_Well, you're off tomorrow…and the kids are going to the Quidditch match with Ron, __Tara__, and Cherry. We will have the entire day—"_

_A smirk grows on his face, "I like where you're going with this."_

_Kissing him one last time, "Glad you do…honey, grab the bowls with the sauce and noodles, and I'll grab the garlic bread and be out there in a minute. Make sure Ben doesn't have mud on his hands and __Addison__ doesn't her—"_

_Draco kisses me to shut me up, "I got it, love." He smiles, grabs the bowls, and leaves._

_When I come out, Draco is sitting at the table with __Addison__ and Lilly, looking around. With a raised eyebrow, I sit the platter with the garlic bread down and look at the girls, "Addison?"_

_Smiles politely, "Yes, mummy?"_

"_Where's your brother?"_

_Shrugs, "He wasn't in his room."_

_I move to the next girl, "Lilly?"_

"_Yes auntie?"_

"_Where's **your** brother?"_

_Another shrug, "Last I checked, he and Ben were sneaking out of your room."_

_I look in Draco's direction…and he's already out his chair and halfway out the room, heading in the direction of the stairs, "Already on it."_

_Before Draco can take another step, Ben comes storming into the dining room, out of breath like he's just run a full-scale marathon, "Before I get in trouble," he starts breathlessly, "I just want to say that it's all Addison's fault!"_

"_Hey! You take that back, you little twerp! I didn't do anything!" is his sister's defensive cry._

"_Well, it is…" he argues, defiantly._

_Her voice is so shrilled now it reminds me of nails on a chalkboard, "Is not!"_

"_Is too!" he screams back, "If **you** hadn't told us about the charm that made your teeth grow fast, **I** wouldn't have stolen mum's wand from her drawer, and **Albus** wouldn't be upstairs with his front teeth growing past his knees."_

_As if on cue, little ten-year-old Albus comes walking in (as best as he can), his front teeth threatening to touch his shoes, "Help," is his muffled and hopeless whimper and I detect tears in his eyes. The room falls into a stunned silence. Lilly and __Addison__ pause, just for a moment, and proceed to burst into fits of laughter. Lilly actually has tears in her eyes from laughing so hard._

_Draco snorts to cover his laughter and I bite my lip to stop from snickering, "Aww, Albus, sweetheart, here sit down. Your uncle Draco did the same thing to me in 4th year. I'll see what I can do to stop it. Draco, honey, owl a Medi-witch. Tell them it's an emergency."_

* * *

And finally, two years ago we had Grace Andromeda Malfoy. She's an adorable, calm, constantly moving busy-body with a head of blonde hair and the prettiest hazel eyes I've ever seen. Simply adorable…and she loves to sleep. Grace has a lot of his mannerisms and a ton of facial expressions that tell us exactly what's on her mind even when she's unable to tell us, but it's too soon to tell if she's going to be like Ben, Addison…or if she's going to be totally different.

I'm shooting for something different…as long as it isn't going to drive me insane.

* * *

_(Yesterday)_

_I bring home a few files in order to leave the office early. There is much to be done. With the new law I helped pass in Wizengamot that is harder on wizards and witches who treat their house elves harshly, the cases of house elf cruelty are coming in by the hundreds. I should still be working, I really should, but I've been working all week, almost non-stop…and after today's doctor's appointment, being here is more important than work. _

_So, now, those files are sitting in my office on my desk and I'm standing on the back porch, watching Draco twirl Grace in his arms while Addison places flowers on Crookshanks' grave under the tree Ben is currently climbing (not too high though) in the back of our yard with her pygmy puff, Oscar, flying faithfully over her shoulder. It's been nearly three years since he died of old age and __Addison__ always makes sure he has fresh flowers on his grave. _

_I start down the steps, heading towards my family._

_Addison skips to her daddy, Ben jumps from the tree, and Draco puts Grace down…who picks up a handful of flowers (AKA: small branches with leaves and dandelions) and makes a beeline towards me, as fast as her little feet will carry her. She trips a few times and lands on her bum in the grass, but she quickly gets up, undeterred. _

"_Tag, you're it, daddy!" Ben and Addison tag him at the same time and proceed to take off running in different directions._

"_Well, that's no fair," Draco calls after them, "Two on one, not fair at all." He looks over at me and winks. _

_Ben keeps running, hell-bent on not being it, but Addison slows down and walks over to her father, eager to explain the rules. I guess she gets that from me, "That's how the game works, we tag, we run, you chase—"_

_Draco is quick, like lightning, "Such a little Gryffindor, just like your mother…easily distracted and so very trusting," he tags her and takes off, "Now **you're** it!"_

_Addison lets out a scream and runs after him, "You tricked me, daddy! Not fair!"_

_I scoop Grace up in my arms and swing her around before hugging her close. She giggles gleefully, "Mummy, mummy," she hands me the flowers, proudly, "For you."_

"_Why, they're beautiful, Gracie, thank you." I take the flowers and kiss her pudgy cheek._

_Grace blushes and then yawns, "'elcome."_

"_Are you sleepy, baby?"_

_Her eyes are glazed over when she nods, "Mmhmm." _

_Grace puts her head on my shoulder and in about five minutes of rubbing her back, rocking, and petting her hair and she is sleeping peacefully. Draco, Addison, and Ben are out of sight briefly…_

…_that is until I see Addison and Draco running from Ben. Just when Ben is hot on his heels, Draco spins around, sweeps the boy up and snags Addison, exhausted from the running, "Alright, you two, daddy is tired from running from you two and it's nearly dark. Go take a bath and mommy will order us all pizza tonight and we'll watch movies too." Pizza and movies are a rarity in our house, they only happen together on special occasions. It's funny that he decides to make tonight a pizza and movie night, especially since he doesn't know just how special it is._

"_Pizza! Movies! Yay!" They both scream and attack him with hugs before running past me and into the house._

_Draco drops a kiss on my lips and then one on Grace's head as she snuggles deeper into me. Merlin, she's so beautiful. They all are…and he is too. I smile at Draco, trying to hold back tears with a joke, "Mind-reading again?"_

_He looks puzzled, "What?"_

"_I already ordered pizza, about fifteen minutes ago. Should be here by the time everyone finishes bathing. I bought some movies too…"_

_He just grins. There's a quiet exchange of Grace from my arms to his and when he returns from putting her down in her playpen in the family room, he returns to my side and in almost silence, with his arms wrapped around me and his chin on my head, we watch the sun set over the horizon._

_As Draco's hands thoughtfully rest on my stomach, I smile to myself. Everything is about to change again and Merlin, it feels wonderful. _

* * *

I never even imagined that I'd have three kids…hell, I could barely imagine having _one_…but now that they're here and even though they stress me out, I can't possibly imagine my life without them.

Their love, (my husband, my children, and friends) makes the world continue to go around. For sure, if they disappear from my life, it will stop, and life, as I know it, will end.

Love. It's the scariest and most fulfilling emotion there is. It can bring highs that you never dreamed of, and lows that bring such despair you think you'll surely die from it. Love heals and causes wounds. It gives strength and makes you weak.

It's the only emotion I know, that can make you laugh one minute and cry the next. It's the highest of the highs, the lowest of the lows, and everything in between. Love. It's what brings me here today, to this place. It's the reason I'm here…

Consciousness begins to dawn on my brain at its own leisure pace.

Blearily, I push a few locks of curls from my eyes, not caring whether or not they are tangled. It takes a few minutes for my hearing and attentiveness to the area around me to become somewhat clear. Somehow, I manage to un-tuck my tender arm from underneath the pillow and stretch it out beside my body.

Then, my eyes open and immediately search the room for any kind of light. And they find a dim light pouring into the living room, but I don't have the energy to figure out its source.

So I lay here.

And it's really not a bad thing. I _want_ to be here, more than anything. I don't want to leave the comfort of our bed and the man lying beside me. Draco is such a light sleeper. Anything wakes him up. So, I'm going to let his arms stay wrapped around me, I'm going to let him snuggle with me, I'm going to let him breathe lowly in my ear, and I'm going to relax.

He hugs me closer, forcing me to meld my back into his chest. And as uncomfortable as it may sound, it actually feels nice and cosy; the cosy part is something I will always love. After a few more minutes, I wane myself out of my laziness, flex my hand, move my arm that is smothered under his, and rub my head as I roll over…to see a face grinning back at me.

I frown. Draco has been awake the _entire_ time. And he's still grinning. God, that grin drives me crazy.

And then I realise something…"Draco?"

"Yes, love?"

"It's too quiet."

"So…it's 5:27 on a Saturday morning. Everyone's sleeping. I checked."

Chuckling, "Not for long." I kiss him quickly, "Breakfast?"

"I'd rather have dessert," he replies huskily, touching my bare leg.

Still, after all these years, I still get a shiver in my spine and feel those mutant bats in my stomach when he's in close proximity, "You're insatiable."

Cheekily, "You're correct."

"Well," I kiss him deeply but quickly pull away, "Ginny and Harry volunteered to take the kids tonight so we can go to the Burrow early for Ron's wedding to help prepare." I kiss him again, he groans when I pull away, "So tonight, when we drop them off, we'll come home and have all the dessert you want." I kiss him one last time before getting out of bed and putting on a robe.

He relaxes in bed, "I like the sound of that…I just can't believe Weaselbee is getting married."

Rolling my eyes, "He and Tara have been married for six _years_ now. You remember when they eloped. It was _huge_ news for weeks. Their parents were so pissed. They're just finally going to do it the right way, for their parents and for their recent reconciliation, I guess. Whatever works," I shrug.

Ron and Tara have been on this six-year rollercoaster where they break-up and get back together frequently, but I guess they really love each other because no matter what, they always manage to find their way back to one another. I hope, not just for their sake, but the sake of their five-year-old Cherry, that they _finally_ have it together.

Yes, their daughter's name is Cherry Rose Weasley, just like she said…and Ginny told me yesterday that she may be pregnant again.

Let's hope it's a boy, for the _child's_ sake.

"…maybe we can start working on number four," flashes a wicked grin.

Funny he should mention that. My sarcastic laughter fills the room, "You're joking?"

Draco's still in the bed, staring at me, "Actually, I'm quite serious."

I look at him, smirking like he can't be serious, "Draco, four kids? You want four kids under the age of eight to be running around the house? Between Addison's reading habits that spark all kinds of curiosity and Ben—well, being _Ben_ and his experiments and I don't even know what Gracie is capable of…as if we don't have _enough_ chaos—"

He cuts me off smoothly, "I think we do pretty well, actually. You won't see any of _our_ kids trying to assassinate the headmaster—"

"Yeah, but I can see Ben setting bluebell flames on anyone who pisses him off and sneaking into the Forbidden forest and pissing off Filch. I can see Addison mixing Polyjuice potion in the girl's bathroom to turn herself into someone from another house so she can see all the common rooms she's read about in Hogwarts: A History. Let's just _hope_ she doesn't turn herself into a cat or _worse_, a ferret."

Draco laughs, "True, but they're good kids."

He's right, you know. They are good kids. All of them, even Ben, who keeps me on my toes at all times. I smile giddily and plop down on the bed next to him, "They really _are_, huh?"

Nudges me with his shoulder, "Yes…and Gracie was telling me that she wanted another little brother or sister…"

I crack up laughing, "The two-year-old did _not_ tell you that."

Draco grins like a kid who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Okay, well, maybe not, but she will _love_ being a big sister."

"Really…well, I certainly hope she will because I just found out yesterday that in about six months, that's _exactly_ what she's going to be."

* * *

_(The next day)_

For all the hell they've been through, they really make getting married look easy…

…too bad she was a _monster_ right up until she walked down the aisle.

The wedding, which took place in the same spot as Fleur and Bill's wedding, was absolutely beautiful and amazing. Draco humorously kept handing me tissues…that I used. She may still be an idiot, but she makes Ron happy and that's all I ask for. They released charmed butterflies as they walked down the aisle as man and wife. Tara really _does_ look beautiful with her noticeable baby bump, glowing as she smiles and dances with George while Ron, Draco, and Harry converse on the other end of the dance floor, all smiles and no wrestling…

Merlin, it _is_ a good day.

I quickly scope the room for my kids. Addison is charming Neville, Luna, and the soon-to-be retired McGonagall with her extensive knowledge about all things magical, no doubt. Ben is dancing with Lilly, or at least I _hope_ that's what he's doing. It kind of looks like the funky chicken gone awry. James, who they brought home for the occasion, is laughing in the corner at his friend. Mrs. Weasley is holding Grace while other adults coo over her.

"Apparently it's a _girl_." Ginny sits next to me.

I snap from my thoughts, looking over at Ginny, "What?"

"Tara and Ron's baby…it's a girl."

My mouth drops, "Holy shit. What are they naming her?"

"Strawberry Blossom. She apparently is stuck on naming her kids after fruit and flowers. Ron's trying to talk her out of it, he's trying to get her to change it to Apple, but she's hell-bent on Strawberry. Something about apples being too tangy or something..."

"Apparently," I shake my head sadly, "Poor Strawberry Blossom Weasley."

Ginny busts out laughing and I laugh too. A few moments later and we're sighing and shaking our heads, "How did Draco take the news of your pregnancy?" Of course, Ginny was the one with me when I found out. What else are best friends for?

"Very well, he's over the moon. Determined to convince me this time to name the baby Dracona, if it's a girl."

Snickers, "He will never learn, huh?"

"Apparently not."

After a few more minutes of talking, Ginny takes Albus out on the floor to dance alongside his sister and my son. James manages to coax Addison out on the floor and they're out there doing some good luck dance Luna taught them. Of course, Luna is doing it with them. Neville, too.

Shaking my head, I wander over to the boys, stopping and talking briefly to a few people and Mrs. Weasley, who tells me she just put Grace down for a nap.

Ron and Harry are laughing about something when I finally make my way to them.

"Well, I hope I didn't miss anything _too_ funny." I announce my presence, taking my spot between Harry and my husband.

Ron immediately sweeps me into a hug, "Malfoy was just telling us the good news. Congrats!"

"Congratulations are in order for you too…another girl for the Weasleys? Too amazing."

Ron smiles proudly.

"Congratulations on number four," Harry hugs me next.

I pull back from his hug and smile at my boys. We've all come a long way from being outcasts on the Hogwarts Express our first year. Friendships, enemies, fighting, break-up, make-ups, love, hate, births, deaths, war, peace, happiness, sadness…everything has led us right up to this moment.

"Thanks guys, _really_."

Draco takes my hand and kisses it, excusing us so we can go dance to the slow song now playing. The kids have vacated the floor, Ginny finds Harry, Ron finds Tara, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley find each other, Bill and Fleur, and countless other couples are on the floor with us. He twirls me around and drops a small kiss on my temple, "I was just telling them that I'm going to name this baby Dracona, even if it kills me."

Smirking against his chest, I sway with him, "And if you even think about sneaking it in there, I _will_ kill you. No respectable daughter of _mine_ will be named something ridiculous like Dracona…besides, I think it's a boy...and if it is I'm going to name him Andrew."

As I dance here with my husband, as I later watch him dance with Addison and a bleary-eyed Grace, and even as I watch him horse around with James, Ben, and Albus, I really don't feel like I'm living out one of the romance story Ginny reads religiously (she swears I am, though).

You see, they all have laughter, conflict, joy, tears, break-ups, fighting, cheating, ridiculous characters, pain, lots of sex, happiness, a shaky friendship that blossoms into love, and yes that may describe our story perfectly, but let's dive deeper for a moment, shall we?

I think the story of me and Draco as a story that has something those other stories lack, and it's based on something profound. Our story is a proper love story. You see, there aren't too many just proper love stories so they're hard to spot. I like to think that it's because stories like those are so rare.

Our story is a proper love story because it's not complicated; it's simple, just how love should be. How we all want love to be. Sure, the proper love story is surrounded by craziness, crazy people, and crazy situations, and often it's messy, but still, it's based on love…and you know what? That's just what makes our story better.

And when Draco talks to our growing baby later tonight when we're lying in bed, I smile with the realization that maybe this isn't the end….

Maybe this is the start of something new, wonderful, and special….

The beginning.


End file.
